Ri^^V^^■>;^•,-^,^F,^-I.• 


WSI^ 


LTBKA.KY 


OF   THK 


Theological    Seminary 

Pl^INCETON,    N.  J. 


RELIGIOUS 

PHILOSOPHY; 


OR, 


NATURE,  MAN,  AND  THE  BIBLE 


WITNESSING 


TO  GOD  AND  TO  RELIGIOUS  TRUTH, 


BEING 


THE   SUBSTANCE   OF   FOUR    COURSES   OF   LECTURES 

DELIVERED   BEFORE   THE   LOWELL  INSTITUTE 

BETWEEN   THE   YEARS    1845-1853. 


BY 


ALONZO   POTTER,  D.D,  LL.D., 

PROFESSOR   OF   MORAL  PHILOSOPHY   IN  UNION  COLLEGE,  AND   LATE 
BISHOP   OF  PENNSYLVANIA. 


"  God  hath  sent  Nature  before  us  as  an  Instructress,  purposing  to  send  Revelation  after,  in  order 
that  as  a  disciple  of  Nature  thou  mayest  more  easily  hearken  to  Revelatiou." — TeriuUian. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1872. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    &    CO., 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


LippiNcoTT's  Press, 
Philadelphia. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 

PRELIMINARY     DISCUSSIONS. 
CHAPTER    I. 

PAGE 

Introduction 17 

I.   Object  of  the  work. 
II.  Method. 

CHAPTER   II. 
Religion  founded  in  the  Constitution  of  Human  Nature    ...    36 
I.  The  fact. 
II.  The  fact  explained. 

CHAPTER   III. 

Illustrations 60 

I.   Objects  considered  as  religious  teachers. 
II.  Events  or  sequences  considered  as  religious  teachers. 

CHAPTER   IV. 
Critical  Discussions loi 

I.  Adaptation  or  final  causes. 

II.  Order  and  uniformity  in  sequences  as  explained  by  unbelievers. 
HI.  Order  and  uniformity  in  sequences  as  misapprehended  by  believers. 
IV.  Science  and  religion. 

1.  Science  and  natural  religion. 

2.  Science  and  revelation. 


PART  II. 

NATURE     A     WITNESS. 

I.  Inorganic  Nature 
II.  Organic  Nature. 

(iii) 


iv  CONTENTS. 

BOOK   I. 

INORGANIC     NATURE. 

{^Physics  and  Chemistry. ) 

CHAPTER    I. 

PAGE 

Mechanical  Philosophy  a  Religious  Tkacher 179 

Motion    and    Rest.      i.  Inertia.      2.  Friction.     3.  Gravity.     4    Heat. 
5.  Animal  Power. 

CHAPTER    II. 

Chemistry  a  Relicious  Teacher '.     .  205 

The  Laws  of — 

1.  Chemical  affinity. 

2.  Materials  on  which  it  acts. 

3.  Its  agency  in  maintaining  the  phenomena  of  animal  and  vege- 

table Life. 

BOOK    II. 

ORGANIC    NATURE. 

( Physiology  —  Zoology. ) 

CHAPTER   I. 

The  Life-Power  Witnessing  to  the  Divine  Existence 229 

Nature  of  life  —  Materialism  —  Spontaneous  generation  —  Develop- 
ment—  Insufficiency  of  any  physical  theory  of  vital  processes  —  Or- 
ganic and  inorganic  substances  contrasted. 

CHAPTER   II. 

The  Life-Power  in  Nature  Illustrative  ov  Divine  Power  .     .     .  246 

1.  True  conception  of  power — Divine  power  indicated  by  the  multi- 

plicity of  its  creatures  in  the  organic  world. 

2.  Their   power  to  outlive  changes  and  to  withstand  the  assaults  of 

physical  foes. 

CHAPTER    III. 

The  Life-Power  a  Witness  for  Divine  Wisdom 265 

1.  By  constancy  of  purpose. 

2.  Indications  of  intelligent  foresight. 

3.  Exuberance  of  creative  skill. 

(a)  Hereditary  transmission, 
(i)  Transmutation  of  species, 
(r)   Embryotic  theory. 


CONTENTS.  V 

{d)  Distribution  of  species. 
(^)  Unity  of  the  human  race.  \^ 

Divine  unity, 
(rt)  The  whole  world  of  organic  nature. 
{b)  What  certain  portions  of  the  kingdoms  have  in  common. 
(<r)   The  unity  of  composition  in  those  kingdoms,  each  considered 

by  itself. 
id.)   Harmony  of  coexistent  parts  in  the  same  individual. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


PAGE 


The  Life-Power  a  Witness  for  Divine  Wisdom — (Continued)      .     .   299 

1.  Final  causes — their  use  and  value  in  science — in  religion. 

2.  Divine  wisdom  indicated  in  the  means  for  upholding  life  in  plants. 

(a)  In  the  individual. 

[b^  In   the  species, — the   reciprocal   agency  of  different  tribes  of 
plants. 

(c)  Of  plants  and  animals. 

CHAPTER   V. 

The  Life- Power  Witnessing  to  Divine  Benevolence 315 

I.  Means  of  upholding  life  and  enjoyment  in  animals. 
id)  Through  vegetables, — reciprocal  adaptations. 

(b)  Through  inferior  animals, — gratuitous  enjoyment. 

(<:)  The  system  of  prey ;  does  it  compromise  the  Benevolence  of 

God? 

CHAPTER   VI. 

The  Life-Power  Witnessing  for  all  Perfection 328 

Plants  and  animals  ministers  to — 
{a)  Man's  physical  enjoyment. 
ib)  His  mental  development, 
(f)   His  moral  discipline. 

[d)  His  social  and  political  welfare. 


PART   III. 

MAN     A     WITNESS. 
{^Physiology,  Psychology,  and  Ethics^ 

BOOK   I. 

The  Body  a  Witness  against  Materialism 345 

The  physical  condition  of  man  by  nature,  and  his  physical  history  — 
His  physical  organization:  {a)  Trunk,  {b)  head,  (r)  hand,  {d)  organs  of 
locomotion,  etc.,  (e)  organs  of  sensation,  reflection,  and  speech. 


vi  CONTENTS. 

BOOK    II. 

THE     SOUL    A     WITNESS     TO     THE     DIVINE     EXISTENCE. 

CHAPTER    I. 

PAGE 

To  HIS  Existence 357 

Value  of  psychological  studies  —  Essential  characteristics  of  mind  — 
Analogies  point  to  a  spiritual  First  Cause — Instincts  and  intuitive  beliefs 
do  the  same. 

CHAPTER   II. 

To  HIS  Unity,  Personality,  and  Wisdom 365 

Our  conscious  individuality — Our  conscious  personality — Our  free  de- 
liberative reason — The  respective  faculties  of  men  and  animals — Re-  . 
spective  faculties  of  the  sexes. 

CHAPTER   III. 

The  Soul  a  Witness  to  Divine  Benevolence 373 

Emotional  functions — Selfish  and  social  principles — Their  respective 
offices — The  twofold  office  of  each — The  variable  character  of  each. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

The  Soul  a  Witness  to  the  Benevolence  of  God 383 

All  our  powers  and  susceptibilities  variable,  according  to  emergen- 
cies— Examples  :  Desire,  fear,  memory,  imagination,  etc. — The  power 
of  self-adjustment  to  position. 

CHAPTER   V. 

The  Soul  a  Witness  to  the  Holiness  of  God 392 

Seen  in  conscience  with  its  discerning  power — Universal  but  fallible — 
2d.  lXse?nolioHal^o\\tv — The  defoctibilityof  conscience — Its  supremacy. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

The  Soul  Witnessing  to  the  Holiness  of  God 405 

Principles  auxiliary  to  conscience  —  Prudence  —  Sense  of  propriety  and 
of  honor — Judging  by  results  rather  than  intentions — The  will — The 
religious  sentiment. 

CHAPTER   VII. 

The  Soul  Witnessing  to  the  Holiness  of  God — (Continued)  .     ,     .  417 
Supremacy  of  conscience   apparent — i.  From  consciousness.     2.  The 
universal  judgments  of  mankind.     3.  From  its  being  necessary  to  the 
maximum  efficiency  of  the  mind  as  an  instrument. 


CONTENTS.  yji 


BOOK   III. 

THE    SOUL    A    WITNESS    TO    ITS    OWN    DESTINY. 
CHAPTER   I. 

PAGE 

Immortality  .     , 424 

1.  By  universal  belief,  which  cannot  be  resolved  into  mere  tradition, 

nor  into  state-craft,  nor  into  poetical  invention. 

2.  By  our  instinctive  faith  in  the  continued  existence  of  objects  that 

exist  now. 

3.  By  our  instinctive  faith  in  the  unity  and  simplicity  of  the  soul. 

4.  By  our  instinctive  faith  in  the  inherent  supremacy  of  mind  over  the 

corporeal  organs. 

5.  By  the  essential  difference  in  the  law  of  development  for  body  and 

for  mind. 

6.  By  what  is  observed  in  abnormal  states  of  the  human  economy. 

7.  By  our  deep  persuasion  that    faith    in   immortality  is  essential  to 

man's  highest  welfare. 

8.  By  our  instinctive  preference  of  the  ideal  over  the  actual. 

9.  By  faculties  and  aspirations  which  iind  no  adequate  scope  in  this  life. 

CHAPTER   II. 

Retribution  in  the  After-Life 441 

1.  That  there  is  retribution  after  death,  attested  by  the  law  which  con- 

nects actions  with  character,  and  character  with  condition. 

2.  That  this  retribution  is  moral,  attested  by  (a)  our  instinctive  convic- 

tion that  moral  character  and  outward  estate  should  correspond ; 
{J}')  our  experience  that  here  they  do  not  correspond;  (c)  con- 
science which  instinctively  anticipates  just  recompense  hereafter ; 
(d)  the  fact  that  monitory  pains  disregarded  become  penalties ;  (^e) 
provision  made  for  future  retribution  in  the  structure  of  the  mind 
generally, — specially  through  each  faculty,  for  example,  memory, 
association;  {f)  the  improbability  that  death  will  induce  any 
change  of  character. 

3.  That  this  moral    retribution  is  final, — intimated  [a)  by  the  law  of 

temporary  contingencies  tending  to  a  fixed  and  unalterable  state ; 
{p)  by  the  law  of  habit ;  {c)  by  the  essential  perpetuity  of  the  good 
or  evil  effects  of  actions;  {d)  the  law  that  these  effects  follow 
after  no  certain  interval. 

4.  That  this  final  retribution  begins  at  death,  intimated  by  all  analo- 

gies,— in  some  cases,  probably,  before  death. 

5.  The  Problem  of  Evil,  considered  in  its  («)  extent,  (<5)  origin,  {c) 

consequences,  (d)  compensations. 


viii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   III. 

PAGE 

The  Problem  of  Discipline 458 

This  life  a  state  of  moral  pupilage  for  the  life  to  come — What  is  implied 
by  the  phrase  moral  discipline  ? — Provisions  for  it  in  childhood,  youth, 
manhood,  in  ourselves,  in  others,  in  the  spirit  of  the  age,  in  books,  in 
matter  extraneous  to  us,  in  the  body,  in  language. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

The  Problem  of  Redemption 480 

Need  of  it  attested  by  the  soul's  consciousness;  by  observation;  by 
the  practice  of  mankind ;  by  the  confessions  of  good  men ;  by  the  lam- 
entations and  yearnings  of  the  great  lights  of  Paganism. 


PART    IV. 


The  Bible  a  Witness 485 

Its  history — Its  contents — Its  miraculous  element — The  form  adopted 
in  teaching — Its  aim  and  success. 


INTRODUCTION. 


A    WORD  may  be  necessary  in  regard  to  the  origin  and 

progress  of  this  work.     It  had  its  origin  in  an  invitation 

given,  in  1 844,  by  John  A.  Lowell,  Esq.,  Trustee  of  the  Lowell 

Institute,  in  Boston,  Mass.,  to  deliver  three  or  more  courses 

of  Lectures  on  the  subject  of  Natural  Religion. 

Occupying  at  that  time  the  Chair  of  Moral  Philosophy  in 
Union  College,  New  York,  the  author  accepted  the  invitation, 
as  affording  congenial  employment,  and  the  first  course  of 
twelve  lectures  was  prepared  and  delivered  early  in  the  year 
1845.  Unexpectedly  he  was  called,  a  few  months  later,  to 
the  Diocese  of  Pennsylvania,  under  circumstances  which 
seemed  to  require  his  acceptance.  In  endeavoring  to  com- 
plete his  engagement  with  the  Lowell  Institute,  he  was  com- 
pelled, by  the  pressure  of  his  new  duties,  to  deliver  the  re- 
maining lectures  without  previously  writing  them  out,  and  to 
trust  to  his  recollection,  aided  by  newspaper  reports,  for  the 
sketches,  more  or  less  full,  which  he  generally  made  soon 
after  the  lectures  were  pronounced.  Preparing  the  matter 
from  day  to  day  as  it  was  delivered,  the  author  modified  to 
some  extent  the  plan  with  which  he  started;  and,  in  writing 
out  subsequently,  he  naturally  varied  in  the  particularity  with 
which  he  performed  that  part  of  his  work.     These  facts  are 

(ix) 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

mentioned  merely  to  explain  the  fragmentary  appearance  of 
some,  especially  of  the  later  chapters,  and  the  want  of  entire 
symmetry  in  the  proportions  of  the  different  books. 

It  should  be  added  that  these  lectures  were  preceded  by 
three  courses  on  the  same  subject,  before  the  same  institu- 
tion, from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Walker,  then  Professor — since  Presi- 
dent— of  Harvard  College,  with  considerable  fulness,  and  no 
doubt  with  ability. 

Dr.  Walker  had  discussed  the  logical  and  metaphysical 
problems  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  the  whole  subject. 
Hence  the  author  touched  these  questions  but  lightly,  and 
confined  himself  mainly  to  illustration  from  the  constitution 
of  the  human  mind  and  of  the  external  world.  He  may  add 
that  though  these  pages  were  written  before  the  existing  con- 
troversies respecting  the  Natural  and  the  Supernatural  arose, 
he  had  a  strong  presentiment  that  such  a  discussion  was  im- 
pending and  inevitable,  and  hence  the  subject  is  treated  at 
some  length,  not  only  in  the  first  but  also  in  the  subsequent 
books. 

A.  P. 

In  view  of  researches  more  recent  than  those  contemplated 
by  the  author,  it  would  have  been  a  willing  labor  of  love  had 
the  undersigned  thought  it  right  to  attempt  or  to  secure  the 
revision  of  some  portions  of  the  work. 

The  Reign  of  Law,  by  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  conspicuous 
among  many  noble  contributions  to  the  recent  literature  of 
Christian  evidences,  the  position  taken  by  Lacordaire,  and  by 
other  late  popular  apologists,  would  seem  necessarily  to 
modify  statements   previously   felt  to   be  sufficient  with   re- 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

ference  to  the  Gospel  Miracles.  It  is  but  just,  however,  that 
the  matured  opinions  of  one  whose  "voice  is  still,"  but  whose 
memory  is  revered,  should  be  stated  literally  in  the  form  in 
which  he  wrote  them  out. 

And  further,  the  advance  of  modern  discovery  in  the  de- 
partment of  the  physical  sciences  is  so  rapid,  that  to  bring 
up  to  date  a  work,  including  evidences  from  the  realms  of 
material  science,  would  need  almost  hourly  revision. 

The  work  of  editing  has  thus  seemed  simply  to  require 
attention  to  certain  matter  of  detail.  The  care  of  the  manu- 
scripts, and  the  review  of  the  proofs,  has  been  undertaken  by 
one  familiar  both  with  the  author's  handwriting  and  with  his 
habits  of  thought,  the  Rev.  Dr.  J.  A.  Childs. 

The  lectures  having  been  delivered  by  my  father,  most  of 
them  without  notes,  were  prepared  for  publication  in  the 
midst  of  multiform  and  exacting  duties.  The  labor  of  so  ex- 
tensive a  subject  would  not  have  been  undertaken,  as  already 
intimated,  but  for  a  pledge  given  before  his  acceptance  of  the 
Episcopate.  Once  undertaken,  it  was  to  be  carried  forward 
to  completion. 

Health,  under  the  pressure  of  years  of  overwork  in  the 
Episcopal  office,  was  fast  failing,  but  not  his  profound  interest 
in  such  a  presentation  of  his  theme  as  should  conciliate  popu- 
lar thought,  and  secure  a  recognition  of  the  truths  of  the 
Christian  religion.  During  a  long  sea  voyage  in  search  of 
health,  the  first  volume  had  been  finally  reviewed  for  publica- 
tion, when  death  arrested  the  pen,  and  gave  to  hand  and 
mind  and  heart,  weary,  but  laboring  to  the  last,  rest  in  the 
vigor  of  Immortal  Life. 

Other  kindred  works,  projected  years  before,  were  to  have 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

followed,  when  thus  suddenly  the  summons  came  to  higher 
realms  of  thought  and  duty. 

The  first  part  of  this  last  voyage  was  passed  in  the  con- 
genial society  of  a  select  scientific  party  under  Professor 
Agassiz.  Upon  Sundays  my  father  invariably  preached,  and, 
as  Dr.  Howe  remarks,  "  in  every  one  of  his  discourses  (simple 
enough  to  be  understood  by  the  rudest  sailor)  he  drew  his 
illustrations  from  nature  or  the  walks  of  science,  and  adduced 
the  testimony  or  example  of  men  of  letters  and  arts."  In  his 
diary,  he  writes,  "Professor  Agassiz  lectures  daily  to  his 
party  on  their  contemplated  work,  on  the  Gulf  Stream,  the 
sea-weed,  and  the  animals  that  live  in  it,  and  on  different 
branches  of  Zoology.  The  lectures  are  very  interesting  and 
instructive." 

The  Holy  Communion  was  administered  upon  Easter  Sun- 
day. The  honored  leader  of  the  scientific  party,  with  others 
among  its  members,  were  recipients. 

The  scientists  having  reached  their  destination,  my  father, 
in  bidding  them  farewell,  realized  that  as  their  mutual  inter- 
course had  resulted  in  sincere  respect  and  affection  on  both 
sides,  thenceforward  he  must  journey  deprived  of  most  con- 
genial society. 

A  man  of  large  sympathies,  as  he  did  not  believe  in  the 
necessity  of  partisan  action  within  the  Church,  so,  too,  he 
never  encouraged  a  partisan  or  class  spirit  in  the  examination 
of  any  question,  or  in  furtherance  of  any  views.  He  did  not 
claim  to  belong  to  any  Church  party  as  such.  His  accom- 
plished biographer,  in  writing  of  his  early  ministerial  life, 
while  he  regards  him  as  identified  with  a  prominent  Church 
party,    in    his    opinions    and    sympathies,   yet    remarks    his 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

freedom  from  partisanship.  In  later  life,  while  possessing 
strong  preferences  and  convictions,  he  himself  always  repelled 
the  assertion  that  he  belonged  to  any  of  the  existing  parties; 
and  there  readily  recurs  the  memory  of  the  phrase,  "so 
called,"  which  he  used  with  emphasis,  as  at  once  asserting 
that  no  class  could  justly  claim,  nor  could  successfully  main- 
tain, a  monopoly  of  Scientific  or  of  Evangelic  and  Catholic 
truth.  He  could  be  silent  as  to  doubtful  matters,  but  never 
equivocal.  Because  he  did  not  hold  exclusively  the  princi- 
ples of  any  party,  he  did  not  profess  them. 

In  the  intimate  intercourse  with  him  which  the  under- 
signed enjoyed  during  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  the  im- 
pression received  from  conversations,  most  unreserved  and 
frequent,  requires  the  assertion  that  he  did  not  ally  himself 
with  any  party,  not  simply  from  motives  of  governmental 
policy,  but  because  from  the  nature  of  his  deepest  convictions 
he  could  not.  He  saw  commingled  truth  and  error,  good 
and  evil,  in  the  principles  and  acts  of  each  and  all.  His  sym- 
pathies went  out  largely,  as  was  natural,  in  the  direction  of 
associations  formed  in  the  course  of  his  education  and  in 
domestic  life ;  but  these  never  clouded  his  judgment,  never  so 
far  affected  his  views  as  to  enable  him  clearly  and  honestly 
to  feel  in  full  sympathy  with,  or  to  ally  himself  to,  either  party. 
His  studied  silence  here  was  the  result  neither  of  tact  nor 
timidity.  He  did  not  agree  fully  with  either.  Had  he  done 
so,  his  unequivocal  utterances  as  to  Slavery,  and  the  Temper- 
ance question,  prove  that  here  he  would  have  spoken  just  as 
decidedly  in  the  direction  of  his  deepest  convictions.  In  no 
respects  partisan,  he  was  thus  fitted  to  speak  dispassionately 
as  to  the  relations  of  material  and  religious  science. 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

After  the  scientists  landed  in  Brazil,  the  voyage  continued, 
amid  scenes  of  surpassing  interest,  until  it  reached  its  close, 
July  4th,  1865,  in  the  harbor  of  San  Francisco.  "One  by 
one,"  to  quote  the  words  of  Bishop  Stevens's  Memorial  Dis- 
course, "the  fetters  that  had  bound  him  to  earth  were  silently 
stricken  off,  that  his  enfranchised  spirit  might  go  free,  and 
before  the  noon  of  that  glorious  day  the  freed  soul  passed  up 
from  the  Golden  Gate  of  the  West  to  the  golden  gate  of  the 
Celestial  City." 

Those  who  loved  him,  and  who  knew  him  best,  realize  each 
day  more  keenly  their  loss  and  his  rare  and  surpassing  no- 
bility of  nature. 

The  delay  in  publishing  these  lectures,  although  unavoida- 
ble, is  regretted,  lest  it  should  mar  the  fulfilment  of  a  purpose 
so  near  his  heart. 

E.  N.  P. 
Union  College,  July  4th,  a.d.  1871. 


PART  I. 


Preliminary  Discussions. 


The  Three  Witnesses. 


CHAPTER    I. 


"As  the  most  certain  and  the  most  important  part  of  true  Philosophy  appears  to 
me  to  be  that  which  shows  the  connection  between  God's  revelation  and  the 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil  implanted  by  Him  in  our  nature,  I  wish  a  course  of 
Lectures  to  be  given  on  Natural  Religion,  showing  its  conformity  to  that  of  our 
Saviour." —  Will  of  John  Loivell,  Jr. 

INTRODUCTION. 

/.   Object  of  the  Work. 

THE  object  of  the  following  pages  is  to  interrogate  Nature^ 
Man,  and  the  Bible,  as  witnesses  on  the  great  questions 
which  Religion  presents.  Is  there  in  the  Universe  anything 
Supernatural, — anything  above  and  beyond  that  orderly  suc- 
cession of  phenomena  which  we  observe  around  and  within 
us, — any  Primal  and  ultimate  cause  to  which  they  can  be  re- 
ferred ?  If  there  be  a  supernatural  principle,  or  cause,  is  it 
active  or  inert?  Is  it  a  Person  or  a  Substance?  If  a  Person, 
is  it  Finite  or  Infinite,  one  or  more  ?  If  it  be  one  Being  of  an 
Infinite  nature,  is  that  Being  Wise,  Good,  and  Holy?  And  in 
what  way  has  He  vindicated  these  Perfections  in  his  dealings 
with  mankind? 

An  answer  to  some  of  these  questions  can  be  found  (we 
propose  to  show)  in  Nature,  organic  and  inorganic.  An  answer 
to  more  of  them,  and  one  of  greater  clearness,  can  be  gathered 
when  we  come  to  study  Man,  in  his  constitution,  as  Material 

2  (17) 


jg  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

and  Immaterial.  And  an  answer  to  all  of  them  breaks  forth 
from  that  wonderful  Book,  which  cannot  be  candidly  con- 
sidered, either  in  its  marvellous  history,  or  in  its  still  more 
marvellous  teachin<^s,  without  a  profound  conviction  that  God 
is,  that  He  is  the  Rewarder  of  all  them  that  diligently  seek 
Him,  and  that  his  ways  with  men  stand  justified  as  the  union 
of  Holiness  and  Love. 

In  summoning  the  Bible  to  appear  as  a  witness  for  God,  we 
propose  to  interrogate  it  by  the  same  method  which  we  apply 
to  Man  and  to  Nature.  In  attempting  to  account  for  their 
origin  and  operations,  we  find  that  neither  Materialism,  Pan- 
theism, Dualism,  nor  Polytheism  is  sufficient.  Those  theories 
break  down,  when  we  confront  them,  carefully  and  candidly, 
with  the  leading  facts  which  are  presented  by  our  own  Nature 
and  by  the  external  Universe.  Neither  man  nor  the  universe 
is  intelligible  except  on  the  Theistic  hypothesis.  It  is  the 
same  with  the  Bible.  On  the  supposition  that  it  came  from 
men  only,  its  contents  and  its  credentials  are  absolutely  inex- 
plicable. And  if  we  adopt  a  supernatural  hypothesis,  we  soon 
find  that  it  is  not  Dualism  nor  Pantheism  nor  Polytheism 
that  can  furnish  the  required  key.  On  the  simple  principle 
that  objects  and  events  must  have  adequate  causes,  we  are 
led  to  conclude  that  the  existence,  the  dissemination,  and  the 
increasing  influence  of  that  Book  proclaims,  with  one  voice, 
that  its  origin  must  be  Divine,  and  that  one  God,  alike  Pow- 
erful, Just,  and  Benevolent,  could  alone  have  moved  men  so 
to  speak  and  act.  We  use  the  Bible,  therefore,  in  reasoning 
not  merely  with  Deism,  but  with  Irrcligion  and  false  Religion 
in  every  form. 

The  evidence  which  one  of  these  Witnesses  supplies,  gains 
greatly  in  strength  when  we  compare  it  with  that  which  is 
supplied  by  the  others.  We  find  that,  when  they  testify  to  the 
same  class  of  facts,  there  is  such  agreement  as  to  afford  ad- 
ditional guarantee  that  the  spiritual  truths,  towards  which 
they  point,  are  not  illusions.     The  voices  in  which  they  seem 


OBJECT   OF   THE    WORK, 


19 


to  speak,  have  different  degress  of  significance,  but  the  burden 
of  their  testimony  is  the  same.  Nature  is  the  child  that  indi- 
cates its  parent  by  a  few  natural  signs.  Man  is  that  same 
child,  furnished,  like  educated  mutes,  with  a  much  more  per- 
fect sign — language.  The  Bible  is  the  child,  endowed  with 
speech,  uttering  itself  in  articulate  language,  and  showing 
forth  all  the  praises  of  the  Creator.  Nature  speaks  to  us  of 
God  mainly  through  material  forces  and  laws — through  the 
collocations  and  mutual  adjustments  of  material  particles  or 
masses.  Man  speaks  to  us  of  God,  and  Immortality,  and  Re- 
compense; and,  may  we  not  add  of  Redemption,  through  his 
soul,  using  material  instruments  as  its  organs  of  thought  and 
action?  The  Bible  bears  witness  to  God  and  Immortality,  to 
Recompense  and  Redemption,  through  articulate  language, 
that  most  perfect  instrument  of  expression  known  to  man. 
If  three  witnesses,  so  different  in  character,  and  each  employ- 
ing an  organ  of  utterance  so  peculiar  to  itself,  still  concur  in 
pointing  to  the  same  grand  and  superintending  First  Cause, 
that  concurrence  forms,  in  itself,  a  pledge  that  this  Cause  has 
a  real  objective  existence. 

These  comparisons  serve  also  another  and  hardly  less  im- 
portant purpose:  while  they  strengthen  Theism,  they  con- 
tribute to  lay,  in  the  Religion  of  Nature,  a  firm  foundation  for 
faith  in  Christ.  If  man  and  the  external  world,  examined  by 
the  improved  methods  of  Philosophy,  teach  lessons  consen- 
taneous with  those  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  then  it  becomes  likely 
that  the  God  of  Nature  is  the  God  of  Christianity  also.  If  the 
student  of  science  discerns,  beyond  the  immediate  sphere  of 
his  researches,  a  supernatural  Power,  he  can  hardly  fail  to  see 
that  it  is  not  a  strange  Power, — that  the  same  informing  mind 
and  spirit  which  breathes  through  every  page  of  the  Gospel 
fills  and  animates  Nature  and  Man,  and  that  he  must  either 
admit  that  this  world  of  outward  and  inward  being,  which  re- 
veals itself  to  his  senses  and  his  consciousness,  is  a  world 
without  God,  or  he  must  own  that  the  same  God  sent  his  Son 


30  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Jesus  Christ  to  be  the  teacher  of  mankind.  Thus  may  the 
enhghtencd  and  devout  Deist  be  "shut  up  unto  the  faith," 
and  every  inquirer  be  brought  to  see  that  his  only  choice  lies 
between  the  dark  gulf  of  Atheism  and  that  sacred  Mount 
where  written  oracles  and  redeeming  grace  are  provided  for 
men. 

In  his  immortal  work,  entitled  the  Analogy,  Bishop  Butler 
has  presented  this  dilemma  with  surpassing  power.  He  there 
shows  that  the  Religion  of  NatJire  contains  no  difficulties  which 
we  do  not  find  in  the  daily  concerns  of  life  ;  and  that  in  the 
Religion  of  the  Bible  there  are  only  such  difficulties  as  the 
Course  of  Nature  and  the  events  of  Providence  might  lead  us 
to  expect.  The  only  controversy,  however,  with  which  Butler 
deals  is  that  between  the  Deist  and  the  Christian.  He  there- 
fore assumes  the  existence  of  God — a  point  which,  in  these 
pages,  it  is  proposed  to  discuss.  He  also  derives  most  of  his 
proofs  and  illustrations  from  the  daily  experience  of  mankind, 
and  from  their  domestic  and  social  relations.  These,  however, 
are  not  the  only  sources,  nor  are  they  those  which  at  this 
time  ought  to  be  placed  under  heaviest  contribution.  The 
hundred  years  which  have  passed,  since  Butler's  great  work 
was  finished,  have  witnessed  astonishing  advances  in  physical 
science,  and  material  progress  even  in  Ethical  and  Psycho- 
Logical  studies.  We  aim  from  these  to  draw  offerings  for  the 
Altar  of  sacred  truth, — to  rise  from  the  deductions  of  human 
science  to  those  of  a  Divine  philosophy.  Here  are  formal 
researches  into  the  nature  of  matter  and  of  mind, — of  matter 
as  it  exi.sts  in  inert  and  inorganic  forms,  subject  to  chemical 
and  mechanical  laws,  and  of  matter  as  it  rises  before  us  in 
countless  varieties  of  vegetable  and  animal  life, — of  mind  as  it 
unfolds  itself  under  all  circumstances,  and  of  mind  as  modi- 
fied by  institutions,  by  arts,  and  by  Religion.  The  science  of 
Nature  and  tlie  science  of  Man  is  each  yielding  new  and  im- 
pressive truths,  and  on  each  truth,  as  there  is  a  God,  his 
character  must  have  left  a  portion  of  its  own  image  and  super- 


METHOD.  21 

scription.  Let  us,  then,  endeavor  to  ascend  through  Laws  to 
the  great  Lawgiver,  and  to  find,  or  at  least  seek  to  find,  on 
each  of  the  mysterious  scrolls  which  science  unfolds,  the 
name  of  God.  "  In  wonder,"  says  Aristotle,  "  does  all  Phi- 
losophy begin,"  and  "in  reverent  astonishment  and  adora- 
tion," adds  Plato,  "must  all  true  Philosophy  end." 

Besides  considering  the  organic  and  inorganic  worlds  of 
matter  in  themselves  and  in  their  relations  to  each  other, 
both  should  be  examined  in  their  relation  to  man's  higher  na- 
ture. Here  a  new  field  opens,  rich  in  illustrations  of  the 
Divine  Existence  and  Character.  One  of  the  special  objects  of 
this  work  is  to  set  forth  the  interdependence  of  different  systems 
of  being;  and  to  show  the  curious  and  admirable  adjustments 
and  harmonies  which  obtain  between  all  these  systems  and 
man's  wants  as  an  intelligence,  who  has  been  endowed  with 
capacity  for  unlimited  mental  and  moral  improvement,  and 
who  is  sent  into  the  world,  and  made  the  tenant  of  a  house 
of  clay,  in  order  that,  through  the  united  agency  of  mind  and 
matter,  of  things  animate  and  things  inanimate,  he  may  be 
educated  for  a  nobler  and  more  enduring  lot,  for  a  "life  be- 
yond life."  No  object  has  been  more  constantly  before  the 
writer  than  to  leaven  these  pages  with  the  pervading  idea 
that  one  great  end  for  which  man  is  placed  amidst  objects 
and  truths  so  nearly  allied  to  his  whole  moral  and  spiritual 
nature,  is,  that  they  should  become  his  disciplinarians,  his  in- 
struments of  true  self  culture ,  through  the  proper  use  of  which 
he  can  rise  to  the  stature  of  a  beautiful  and  noble  humanity. 

//  Method. 

We  add  a  few  words  respecting  the  method  of  discussion 
adopted  in  these  pages. 

We  do  not  start  with  the  idea  that  the  fundamental  truths 
of  Theism  need  to  be  vindicated  to  any  unsophisticated  mind. 
They  seem  to  have  been  interwoven  so  intimately  with  the 
whole  structure  of  the  soul  that  the  unsophisticated  are  rarely 


22  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

harassed  with  doubt.  Tliat  there  is  a  supernatural  world, 
and  that  Man  was  made  for  rehgion,  as  really  as  he  was  made 
for  society,  or  industry,  or  duty,  seems  to  be  all  but  self-evident. 
It  is  hardly  less  clear  that  the  great  truths  of  the  Unity 
and  Personality  of  God  and  the  Immortality  and  Account- 
ability of  the  soul  are  connatural  with  that  soul  in  its  higher 
forms  of  development.  These  primary  religious  truths  are 
liable,  however,  to  be  obscured  and  perverted  in  nations 
through  the  progress  of  a  vicious  culture,  in  individuals 
through  the  malign  influence  of  passion,  or  the  bewildering 
effects  of  speculation.  Unbelief  is  a  morbid  condition  of  the 
faculties,  which  is  rarely  charmed  away  by  the  mere  applica- 
tion of  logical  proof  It  needs  patient  and  skillful  treatment, 
compounded  of  intellectual  and  moral  influences.  It  needs, 
too,  that  the  unbelieving  heart  should  be  enlarged  by  a  con- 
sideration of  the  wants  and  interests  of  society,  and  sobered 
by  the  heart-searching  experiences  of  life.*  Religion  ad- 
dresses itself  to  the  whole  of  our  intellectual,  emotional,  and 
active  nature,  and  therefore  he  who  would  scan  it  with  only  a 
cold  logical  understanding,  must  expect  that,  to  him,  a  large 
share  of  its  majesty  and  beauty  will  stand  eclipsed.  Hence, 
in  this  work,  we  shall  endeavor  to  bear  in  mind  that  Man  has 
Imagination,  Taste,  Sensibility,  Conscience,  and  Will,  as  well 
as  Understanding,  and  to  show  how  in  Nature,  and  in  his  own 
Constitution,  there  is  inexhaustible  provision  for  the  happy 
exercise  and  the  indefinite  improvement  of  all  these  powers 
and  susceptibilities.     Through  such  illustrations,  sufficiently 

*  "  I  may  allude  to  a  conversation  I  once  held  with  the  illustrious  philosopher 
La  Place.  It  was  in  his  sick-chamber,  which,  I  believe,  he  never  left,  and  not 
many  days  before  his  death.  Having  been  informed  of  the  endowments  and 
course  of  study  at  Cambridge,  he  dwelt  earnestly  on  the  religious  character  of 
our  endowments,  and  added,  '  I  think  this  riglit,  and  on  this  point  I  should  de- 
precate any  great  organic  changes  in  your  system,  for  I  have  lived  long  enough  to 
know — what  I  did  not  at  one  time  believe — that  no  society  can  be  upheld  in 
happiness  and  honor  without  the  sentiments  of  religion." — Sedgnuick' s  Dis- 
course on  the  Studies  of  Cambridge  University  {England),  Appendix,  note  E. 


METHOD.  23 

varied,  we  may  hope  that  minds  which  would  be  proof  against 
mere  logical  appeals  can  gain  religious  convictions  that  may- 
be living  sources  of  strength  and  refreshment. 

Nor  should  we  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  there  are  various 
kinds  of  Evidence,  each  of  which  has  its  proper  use,  and  no 
one  of  which  therefore  can  claim  to  supersede  the  rest.  For 
instance,  to  many  a  believer  both  Nature  and  Scripture 
speak  in  direct  and  heart-subduing  tones,  which  he  cannot 
but  regard  as  Divine.  His  own  spirit  bears  witness  with  the 
Eternal  Spirit,  and  he  cannot  doubt  that  there  is  a  Power 
above  in  which  he  lives.  Such  a  believer  may  well  think 
that  to  him,  individually,  external  proof  is  of  inferior  value; 
that  he  need  not  perplex  himself  with  the  subtleties  of  logic, 
nor  trace  too  curiously  the  links  of  that  chain  by  which  his 
implicit  faith  connects  itself  with  the  first  principles  of  sound 
Philosophy.  This  is  that  species  of  internal  evidence  which 
is  sometimes  termed  experimental  or  intuitional. 

Yet  when  such  a  believer  reflects,  he  can  hardly  fail  to  see 
that  what  is  thus  clear  to  his  heart  ought  also  to  be  justified 
to  his  understanding,  and  hence  that  it  becomes  him  to  know 
what  kind  and  degree  of  logical  proof  he  has  a  right  to 
expect.  He  must  see,  too,  that  times  may  come  when  it  will 
be  his  duty  not  merely  to  enjoy  his  own  irrepressible  convic- 
tions, but  to  set  forth  their  validity  and  reasonableness  to 
others.  He  may  be  called  to  deal  with  those  who  own  no 
inward  and  direct  witness  to  the  truth,  no  intuitional  con- 
sciousness of  God  and  religious  responsibility.  In  such  case 
it  will  be  his  part  to  appeal  to  principles  which  others  re- 
cognize ;  and  the  more  generally  admitted  and  the  more  in- 
contestable those  principles  are,  the  more  powerful  will  be  his 
appeal,  and  the  better  adapted  to  every  variety  of  mind.  He 
should  be  prepared  to  render  reasons  for  his  faith  and  hope, 
which  will  not  only  commend  themselves  to  every  candid 
inquirer,  but  which  will  leave  even  the  caviller  without  ex- 
cuse.     How  often   is    Religion  dishonored  by  its    disciples. 


24 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


when,  instead  of  planting  themselves  on  reasonable  evidence, 
they  take  up  positions  which  disregard  the  fundamental  con- 
ditions of  all  sound  reasoning, — who  give  everything  in  charge 
to  feelings  or  sentiments  that  are  but  too  easily  confounded 
with  the  dreams  of  superstition  or  fanaticism  !  Happy  they 
who  have  in  their  hearts  an  indescribable  but  joyous  sense 
of  God's  presence !  Yet  more  happy  if,  with  that  blest  in- 
mate, they  unite  understandings  that  will  not  rest  till  they 
gain  some  vantage-ground  whence  they  can  assert  the  con- 
victions they  glory  in  to  the  satisfaction  of  others,  and  can 
press  with  telling  effect  upon  the  strongholds  of  prejudice, 
sophistry,  and  passion. 

There  are  various  degrees  of  Skepticism,  some  of  which 
pertain  only  to  the  infidel,  while  others  belong  to  the  Christian. 
The  philosophical  or  absolute  skeptic  distrusts,  on  speculative 
grounds,  all  evidence,  and  holds  that  all  our  practical  beliefs 
are  insusceptible  of  valid,  logical  proof  Only  in  Mathematics 
does  he  find  first  principles  which  he  feels  compelled  to 
accept  in  reasoning ;  and  it  is  only  in  pure  science  that  he 
reaches  conclusions  which  are  not  in  his  estimation  simply 
empirical.  In  the  sphere  of  morals  and  Religion,  he  de- 
mands that  which  is  unattainable ;  and  because  he  fails  to  find 
it  he  resigns  himself  to  speculative,  and  perhaps  also  to  prac- 
tical, disbelief  In  respect  to  the  existence  of  an  external 
world,  he  professes  the  same  speculative  uncertainty'  that  he 
does  in  respect  to  the  Divine  Existence  or  the  Immortality 
of  the  soul ;  but  in  his  daily  life  he  admits  that  there  is, 
among  mankind  and  in  his  own  breast,  an  irrepressible  belief, 
which  constrains,  and  ought  to  constrain,  him  to  act  as  if  the 
objects  around  him  were  real.  Why  should  he  not  take  the 
same  course  when  he  deals  with  those  fundamental  religious 
and  moral  beliefs  which  are  scarcely  less  universal?  "Na- 
ture," says  Pascal,  "confounds  the  Pyrrhonists."* 

*  Or  "  Common  Sense  confutes  the  Pyrrhonists,  and  Reason  the  Dogmatists." 
— PascaVs  Thoughts,  chap.  iv. 


METHOD. 


2% 


"Perfect  skepticism,"  says  another,  "taken  by  itself  is  in- 
vincibly repudiated  by  human  nature;  but  at  the  same  time 
it  cannot  be  refuted  in  an  absolute  way  by  human  logic.  For 
every  refutation  of  this  kind  implies  a  certain  principle  on 
which  it  rests,  and  skepticism  admits  no  certain  principle." 
"  The  vice  of  skepticism  does  not  consist  in  maintaining  that 
it  is  impossible  to  demonstrate  radically  that  man  can  have 
certain  knowledge  of  truth,  but  precisely  in  requiring  that 
demonstration.  In  maintaining  the  first  point  it  follows 
reason,  in  asserting  the  second,  it  abjures  human  nature, 
which  believes  in  certainty,  in  virtue  of  a  vital,  indestructible 
faith  which  no  objection  can  shake.  In  reality,  complete 
skepticism  is  impossible, — that  of  Sextus  himself  is  incom- 
plete. He  denies  the  relations  of  human  intelligence  to  things 
objectively  considered;  but,  in  fact,  he  believes  at  least  in  the 
existence  of  the  human  intelligence,  and  he  can  admit  that 
only  in  virtue  of  the  invincible  belief  which  he  on  all  other 
points  attacks.  He  yields  to  it  in  the  very  act  of  deny- 
ing it."* 

In  other  cases,  the  skepticism  with  which  we  are  called  to 
contend  is  partial,  resulting  sometimes  from  the  state  of  the 
understanding,  sometimes  from  the  condition  of  the  heart. 
As  we  pass  from  the  region  of  physical  to  that  of  moral 
knowledge,  the  capacity  for  apprehending  truth  depends 
more  and  more  on  the  state  of  the  will  and  affections.  The 
full  recognition  of  God,  and  of  his  purposes,  requires  a  certain 
subjective  preparation,  a  correspondent  temper  and  disposi- 
tion of  mind.  Blessed  arc  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see 
God, — a  law  which  is  indicated  in  the  experience  of  men 
almost  as  distinctly  as  in  the  declarations  of  Scripture.  The 
love  of  sinful  indulgence,  devotion  to  objects  which,  though 
not  unlawful,  still  perish  in  the  using,  brings  such  obscura- 

*  History  of  Philosophy  used  in  College  of  France,  and  translated  by  Dr. 
Henry.     Harper's  Family  Library. 


26  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

tion  of  the  spiritual  eye,  and  sometimes  such  a  radical  in- 
version of  the  moral  judgment,  that  a  clear  and  authoritative 
recognition  of  Divine  truth  must  be  preceded  by  some  im- 
prov^ement  within.  All  observation  of  the  religious  life  of  in- 
dividuals and  of  nations  goes  to  indicate,  as  a  general  fact, 
that  which  the  sacred  writers  have  enunciated  in  respect  to  a 
single  people:  "The  heart  of  this  people  is  waxed  gross,  and 
their  ears  are  dull  of  hearing,  and  their  eyes  have  they  closed, 
lest  they  should  see  with  their  eyes  and  hear  with  their  ears, 
and  should  be  converted  and  I  should  heal  them."  "  This  is 
the  condemnation  that  light  has  come  into  the  world,  and  men 
loved  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  were 
evil.  For  every  one  that  doeth  evil  hateth  the  light,  neither 
cometh  to  the  light,  lest  his  deeds  should  be  reproved. 
But  he  that  doeth  truth  cometh  to  the  light,  that  his  deeds 
may  be  manifest  that  they  are  wrought  in  God."  We 
have  here  an  intimation  of  the  real  cause  of  much  practical 
skepticism,  as  well  as  of  much  earnest  faith  in  respect  to 
Religion. 

When  we    turn    to   theoretical  unbelief,   short  of  absolute 
skepticism,  we  find  that  in  some  of  its  forms  it  results  from 
peculiarities  of  mental  conformation  or  habit,  in  others  from 
a  narrow  system  of  philosophy.    As  there  are  minds  in  which 
the  logical  element  greatly  predominates,  so  there  are  others 
in  which  the  intuitional,  the  emotional,  or  the  empirical  is 
paramount;    and  it  is  altogether  natural  that  each  of  these 
should  crave  a  kind  of  evidence  adapted  to  itself     Some  per- 
sons, merely  through    habit,  have    become    inordinately  at- 
tached  to  logical   processes   of  the    understanding,  and   fail 
to  discriminate  clearly  the  cases  where  such  a  process  is  rele- 
vant, or  the  conditions  under  which,  in  matters  not  purely 
demonstrative,  it  must  be  applied.     On  the  other  hand,  there 
are  many  who  would  ignore  all  reasoning  applied  to  the  evi- 
dences of  Religion  as  profane.     Referring  everything  to  the 
arbitration  of  some  inward  light,  some  irrepressible  belief,  they 


METHOD. 


27 


Stigmatize  alike  the  Revelation  of  Nature  and  the  Revelation 
of  Scripture. 

Few  causes  contribute  more,  however,  to  these  foregone 
conclusions,  which  control  with  despotic  authority  our  re- 
ligious opinions,  than  philosophy,  falsely  so  called.  Every 
system  of  Metaphysics  proposes  to  set  forth  the  origin  of  our 
knowledge,  and  the  proper  scope  and  limitation  of  the  human 
faculties  ;  but  it  must  be  admitted  that  no  one  of  these  sys- 
tems has  yet  succeeded  in  winning  the  assent  of  the  best 
thinkers.  Even  the  most  comprehensive  of  them  ignores  or 
undervalues  some  element  of  knowledge,  and  leaves  ques- 
tions still  unsettled  which  bear  directly  upon  the  criterion  of 
certitude.  A  perfect  Philosophy  of  Religion  is  still  a  desid-'^ 
eratum,  for  the  simple  reason  that  we  have  as  yet  no  perfect 
Psychology.  Until  this  organ  of  all  philosophical  inquiry  is 
supplied,  we  shall  find  that  the  tlicory  of  the  Evidences  in  Re- 
ligion is  incomplete.  The  most  eminent  philosophers  of  our 
day  are  not  agreed  as  to  which  are  primordial  conceptions  of 
the  human  mind,  which  primary  and  fundamental  beliefs,  that 
ought  always  to  be  assumed  as  incontestable,  and  as  guaran- 
teeing in  themselves  the  existence  of  their  correspondent 
objects.  For  example,  the  Infinite,  Absolute,  or  Uncondi- 
tioned, according  to  Sir  William  Hamilton,  is  incognizable 
and  inconceivable ;  according  to  Kant,  it  is  not  cognizable, 
but  is  more  than  a  mere  negation  of  the  conditioned  ;  accord- 
ing to  Schelling,  it  is  cognizable,  but  not  conceivable;  while, 
according  to  Cousin,  it  is  both  cognizable  and  conceivable, 
being  immediately  known  in  consciousness.  In  such  a  state 
of  our  philosophy,  it  is  difficult  to  analyze  the  highest  opera- 
tions of  the  human  mind,  or  to  demonstrate  the  ground  on 
which  we  are  warranted  in  passing  from  the  subjective  to  the 
objective,  from  the  Finite  to  the  Infinite  and  Absolute. 

A  partial  and  exclusive  psychology  yields  a  narrow  and 
exclusive  method  in  Theology.  A  disciple  of  the  extreme 
sensual  school   doubts  of  everything  save  the  phenomenal. 


28  irn^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

He  finds  in  the  external  world  no  traces  of  that  which  is 
supcrsonsuous,  much  less  of  that  which  is  supernatural,  and 
he  feels  himself  compelled  therefore  to  disclaim  all  religious 
faith  or  to  cast  the  burden  of  its  support  on  Rev^elation.  On 
the  opposite  side,  an  idealist  of  the  extreme  school  must  look 
with  suspicion  on  all  proofs  of  religious  truth  which  are  de- 
rived from  the  external  world ;  and  he  will  be  scarcely  con- 
sistent with  himself  if  he  does  not  reject  or  greatly  under- 
value all  revelation  except  that  which  he  imagines  to  speak 
to  him  through  his  own  interior  consciousness,  and  all  ideas 
of  God  which  make  Him  independent  of  nature  and  of  our 
own  souls.  The  ideas  peculiar  to  Christendom,  of  a  personal 
God;  of  full  moral  responsibility  in  man;  of  evil  as  not  neces- 
sary but  contingent;  of  the  creature  as  perfectly  distinct  from, 
and  yet  wholly  dependent  on,  the  Creator, — these  are  ideas  for 
which,  in  their  explicit  form,  the  world  has  been  indebted  for 
the  most  part  to  Revelation.  They  may  be  found,  in  an  im- 
plicit state,  among  the  contents  of  the  human  mind,  or  they 
may  be  deduced  from  facts  given  by  our  experience.  But  it 
is  the  reproach  of  our  Psychology,  and  of  the  Psychology  and 
Philosophy  of  every  age,  that  as  yet  they  have  but  imperfectly 
evolved  them  by  analysis  and  reflection. 

But  no  defects  which  may  attach  at  present  to  the  theory  of 
Apologetics  can  j  ustify  practical  disbelief.  The  claims  of  Rel  igion 
on  the  conscience  and  the  heart  are  determined  by  our  own 
instinctive  convictions,  by  observations,  and  by  the  concurrent 
voice  of  mankind.  The  navigator  sails  confidently,  in  obedi- 
ence to  his  lunar  observations,  though  he  knows  nothing  of 
the  true  theory  of  the  moon's  motions.  So,  ages  before  the 
true  system  of  the  world  had  been  demonstrated,  time  was 
measured  by  the  revolutions  of  the  stars;  and  even  now  that 
this  system  has  been  demonstrated,  thousands  hold  it  with 
unwavering  confidence  without  comprehending  one  of  the 
principles  on  which  it  rests.  These  principles,  when  we  come 
to  scrutinize  them  closely,  may  suggest  doubts  and  difficul- 


METHOD.  2Q 

ties;  but  inasmuch  as  all  experience  goes  to  verify  their 
justness,  we  do  not  allow  such  difficulties  to  shake  our  confi- 
dence or  alter  our  conduct.  On  moral  subjects,  moreover, 
the  same  clear  and  vigorous  demonstration  is  not  to  be  ex- 
pected as  in  Mathematics  or  even  in  Physics.  "  There  is  light 
enough,"  says  Pascal,  "  for  those  whose  main  wish  is  to  see, 
and  darkness  enough  to  confound  those  of  an  opposite  dis- 
position." A  religion  which  suggested  no  difficulties  to  our 
limited  capacity,  opened  no  questions  too  profound  for  our 
finite  faculties  to  fathom,  would  be  unworthy  of  an  Infinite 
God.  In  the  presence  of  such  a  Being,  and  of  his  eternal  and 
all-comprehending  purposes,  we  must  expect  to  see  as  through 
a  glass,  darkly;  and  in  the  obscurity  of  our  vision  we  are  to 
find  exercise  for  patience  and  humility,  for  candid  inquiry, 
and  childlike  faith.  In  a  state  of  pupilage,  there  must  be 
tasks  for  intellect  as  well  as  heart ;  and  all  through  life  it  is 
our  lot  to  find  other  practical  subjects  besides  religion,  and 
those,  too,  of  the  greatest  moment,  shrouded  in  obscurity. 
It  is  no  inglorious  task  to  hold  on  our  way,  nothing  daunted, 
though  clouds  do  gather  over  us,  and  our  conduct  every  day, 
in  the  pursuit  of  doubtful  earthly  good,  puts  to  shame  the  faint 
hearts  with  which  we  strive  after  a  heavenly  crown.  "  The 
evidence  of  Religion,"  says  Bishop  Butler,*  "  is  fully  sufficient 
for  all  the  piwposes  of  probation,  how  far  soever  it  is  from  being 
satisfactory  as  to  the  purposes  of  curiosity,  or  any  other;  and, 
indeed,  it  answers  the  purpose  of  the  former  in  several  re- 
spects, which  it  would  not  do  if  it  were  as  overbearing  as  is 
required."  And  again,  how  full  of  wisdom  and  of  solemn  ad- 
monition is  the  following  passage  from  the  same  great  master: 
"  It  is  as  real  an  imperfection  in  the  moral  character  not  to  be  in- 
fluenced in  practice  by  a  lotver  degree  of  evidence,  tvhen  dis- 
covered, as  it  is  in  the  understanding  not  to  discern  ity^ 

One  word  before  we  close  this  chapter  on  the  skepticism 

*  Analogy,  Part  II.  chap.  vii.  f  Ibid.,  chap.  vi. 


20  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

zvith  ivhich  the  friends  of  Revelation  and  the  friends  of  Church 
a i( thoritj  somQtXmes  regard  the  evide7ices  of  Natural  Religion. 
That  the  Atheist  should  decry  them  is  to  be  expected,  that 
the  philosophical  skeptic  undervalues  them  is  but  to  be  con- 
sistent with  himself;  but  that  he  who  professes  to  see  God 
in  every  page  of  his  written  word,  or  in  every  ordinance  of  his 
church,  should   be   able  to  discern  no  traces  of  Him  in  his 
works  and  ways  ;  that  Sacred  Writ,  or  the  Keeper  and  Wit- 
ness of  Sacred  Writ,  should  be  resplendent  with  evidences  of 
his  glory,  while  the  heavens  and  the  earth  contain  no  clear 
vestiges,  no  sure  footprints  of  his  Creative  Power  and  God- 
head, is  passing  strange.    The  Bible  claims  no  such  exclusive 
honor  to   itself,  and  for  the  church   to  claim  it  would  be  to 
make  herself  greater  than  the  Bible.     In  the  opening  of  the 
Old  Testament,  the  existence  of  God  is  assumed  as  a  truth 
already   known  from   the  light  of  Nature;  and  in  the  New 
Testament,  St.  Paul,  when  writing  to  the  Romans,  as  when 
preaching  to  the  Athenians,  distinctly  declared  that  the  in- 
visible things  of  God,  even  his  Eternal  Power  and  Godhead, 
had  been  clearly  seen  from  the  Creation  of  the  World, — being 
understood  by  the  things  that  were  made.    The  church  in  her 
earlier  and  in  her  mediaeval  days,  the  days  of  her  Tertullians 
and  Augustines,  her  Anselm  and  Aquinas,  always  insisted  on 
the  evidence  which  the  works  of  God  in  Nature  and  in  man 
bear  to  his  existence  and  character. 

What,  then,  has  sometimes  led  believers  to  join  unbelievers 
in  tauntincf  the  Religion  of  Nature  as  blind  and  dumb?  The 
reasons  have  varied  with  changes  in  Philosophy  and  Theology, 
and  at  the  same  time  different  persons  will  be  found  to  take 
this  course  from  different  motives.  When  the  storms  of  the 
Reformation  broke  over  Europe,  they  shook  the  faith  of  men 
in  many  a  venerable  and  sacred  opinion.  In  the  zeal  against 
abuses,  Christianity  itself  was  in  danger  of  being  shorn  of  its 
full  and  fair  proportions;  and  in  the  hands  of  some  reformers 
it  came  forth  but  the  "remnant  of  a  creed,"  in  which  the 


METHOD.  '  5  1 

Pagan  Socrates  and  the  Christian  Theologian  were  to  own 
each  other  as  brethren  of  the  same  faith.  But  it  was  soon 
felt  that  if  this  were  the  whole  of  Christianity,  if  it  were  only 
to  republish  the  Religion  of  Nature  that  such  a  splendid  ap- 
paratus of  types  and  prophecies  had  been  provided,  such 
miracles  of  power  and  mercy  wrought,  the  disproportion  be- 
tween the  means  and  the  end  was  too  appalling.  Hence,  in 
order  to  save  the  honor  of  God,  and  not  part  with  their  own 
cherished  dogmas,  they  were  led  to  depreciate  Natural  Re- 
ligion, to  declaini  on  the  weakness  of  the  human  faculties, 
though  these  very  faculties  had  just  presumed  to  evacuate 
Revelation  itself  of  some  of  its  most  precious  contents. 

But  such  a  doctrine,  although  in  Socinus,  its  inventor,  it  was 
at  war  alike  with  logic  and  with  consistency,  was  a  weapon 
too  convenient  to  be  monopolized  by  him.  It  has  been  ap- 
propriated, alternately,  by  Roman  Catholics  and  by  Protest- 
ants, by  Calvinists  and  by  Arminians.  When  Papists  would 
uphold  the  declining  authority  of  the  church,  they  have  some- 
times not  been  ashamed  (according  to  Burnet)  to  rally  under 
the  standard  of  Hobbes,  and  to  join,  with  that  bold  prophet 
of  Atheism,  in  preaching  the  impotence  of  human  reason.* 
When  Protestants  would  magnify  the  Bible, — that  gift  of  theirs 
to  the  whole  human  family, — they  have  sometimes  been  will- 
ing to  do  it  by  disparaging  all  other  sources  of  knowledge, 
and  by  assuming  postulates  inconsistent  with  all  rational  faith. 
They  who  would  exalt  the  love  of  a  suffering  Saviour,  and 
the  sovereign  grace  which  gave  Him  to  mankind,  have  at  times 


*  "And  now  that  the  main  principle  of  religion  was  struck  at  by  Ilobbes  and 
his  followers,  the  Papists  acted  upon  this  a  very  strange  part.  They  went  in  so 
far  even  into  the  ra-gument  for  Atheism  as  to  publish  many  books,  in  which  they 
affirmed,  that  there  was  no  certain  proofs  of  the  Christian  religion,  unless  we  took 
it  from  the  authority  of  the  Church  as  infallible.  This  was  such  a  delivering  up 
of  the  cause  to  them,  that  it  raised  in  all  good  men  a  very  high  indignation  at 
Popery ;  that  party  showing  that  they  chose  to  make  men  who  would  not  become 
Papists  become  Atheists,  rather  than  believe  Christianity  upon  any  other  ground 
than  infallibility." — Bishop  Burnefs  History  of  his  Own  Times,  vol.  i.  p.  188. 


32  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

painted  the  ruins  of  the  fall  in  colors  so  dark  that  no  under- 
standing seemed  left  to  man  through  which  to  appreciate 
truth,  nor  any  genial  sentiments  through  which  to  feel  its 
blest  attraction  or  its  infinite  majesty.  So  with  others  in  their 
reaction  towards  a  milder  faith.  For  often  they  have  feared 
to  admit  the  force  of  evidence  supplied  by  Nature,  lest  they 
might  seem  to  detract  from  Revelation,  and  stultify  them- 
selves by  teaching  for  Christ's  Gospel  what  is  "as  old  as  the 
Creation."  The  disciples  of  the  sensual  philosophy,  too,  hold 
ing  that  the  senses  were  the  only  inlets  of  knowledge,  have 
thought  that  they  found  in  the  printed  characters  on  the  page 
of  Scripture  the  only  visible  signs  of  God ;  and  that  with 
mountains  of  matter  heaped  up  before  us,  the  attempt  (to  use 
the  language  of  a  writer  of  this  school)  to  extract  from  them 
the  ideas  of  an  Invisible  Creator  and  Governor  is  "as  fruitless 
as  that  of  the  giants  invading  Jupiter."*  And  if  from  them 
we  turn  to  their  transcendental  antagonists  in  England,  who 
would  use  the  Philosophy  of  Plato  in  the  revival  of  Catholic 
truth,  from  their  halls  of  learning  sounds  the  stern  rebuke 
that  we  are  "  unsettling  the  foundation  of  Christianity  by  rest- 
ing it  on  the  false  support  of  an  unsound  Natural  Theology, 
because  we  distrust  the  true  basis  on  which  it  was  placed  by 
its  founder, — the  testimony  of  its  teachers. "f 

That  the  Bible  recognizes  the  Religion  of  Nature,  and  the 
capacity  of  man  to  discern  it,  is  too  evident,  it  seems  to  us, 
for  argument.  We  may  add  that  sound  logic  requires  that  it 
should  be  recognized  hy  every  believer  as  an  essential  prelimi- 
nary to  his  faith  in  Revelation.  The  claims  of  the  Bible  to  our 
implicit  belief  rest  on  its  veracity,  and  its  veracity  can  hardly 
be  established  unless  we  show  that  the  men  who  wrote  it 
were  guided  by  a  wisdom  that  cannot  err,  and  will  not  lie; 
or,  in  other  words,  by  a  wisdom  that  is  Divine.  Before,  how- 
ever, we  can  prove  that  a  Divine  sanction  rests  on  the  Sacred 

*  Ellis's  Knowledge  of  Divine  Things,  p.  460.        f  Sewell  on  Plate,  p.  93. 


METHOD. 


33 


records,  we  must  assume  that  there  is  a  Divine  Being,  and 
that  all  his  words  are  Yea  and  Amen.  To  employ  the  Bible, 
then,  in  proving  the  existence  or  perfections  of  the  Deity,  is  to 
beg  the  very  point  in  debate. 

It  is  that  form  of  pctitio  principii  which  logicians  generally 
term  the  circle, — first  assuming  that  there  is  a  God  of  infinite 
wisdom  and  veracity;  from  thence  inferring  the  Divine  au- 
thority of  the  Scriptures ;  and  then  proceeding  from  this  last 
to  conclude  that  there  is  a  God. 

Are  the  miracles  of  Scripture  appealed  to  as  evidence  that 
there  is  a  God, — thus  making  the  Bible  contain  within  itself 
all  needed  premises  for  proving  its  own  inspiration?  But  how 
know  we  that  those  which  are  recorded  as  miracles  are  so 
indeed  ?  Deny  that  there  is  a  God,  or  that  He  can  be  made 
known  to  us  independent  of  Revelation,  and  we  see  not  how  we 
are  to  evade  the  force  of  Hume's  celebrated  argument  (against 
the  possibility  of  proving  miracles),  which  he  has  founded 
on  their  intrinsic  improbability.  We  must  either  recognize 
beforehand  the  existence  of  a  Being  Almighty,  and  therefore 
able  to  suspend  or  reverse  the  laws  of  Nature;  All-wise  and 
gracious,  and  therefore  likely  to  reverse  them,  if  thereby  man's 
welfare,  or  his  own  glory,  might  be  essentially  advanced,  thus 
establishing  an  antecedent  moral  probability  in  favor  of  miracles, 
— or  we  must  reduce  the  whole  question  to  one  of  physical 
probability.  Here  all  experience  steps  in  to  attest  the  absolute 
uniformity  of  physical  phenomena,  or  of  what  is  called  the  course 
of  Nature.  Instances  without  number  are  adduced  in  which 
events  long  thought  miraculous  have  proved  at  last  to  be  but 
legitimate  effects  of  established  laws.  The  brood  of  spurious 
miracles  which  have  been  employed  to  deceive  and  betray 
mankind  are  appealed  to,  and  the  inviolable  order  and  regu- 
larity of  natural  laws  insisted  on,  till  we  are  constrained  to 
feel  that  if  the  existence  of  a  Being  able  to  work  such  wonders 
be  not  certified  to  as  from  other  and  antecedent  evidence,  it 
can  be  hardly  furnished  by  the  wonders  themselves.    Between 

3 


34 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


the  moral  probability  which  assumes  that  there  is  a  God,  and 
the  physical  probability  which  leads  us  to  assume  that  the 
laws  of  Nature  are  never  suspended,  we  must  in  such  case 
take  our  choice ;  and  if  we  elect  the  latter,  no  alternative  re- 
mains but  skepticism  in  regard  to  whatever  of  supernatural 
there  is  in  Revelation.  And  such  is  actually  the  course  of  a 
most  able  writer  and  believer  in  Christianity,  who,  not  long 
since,  presented  himself  as  the  champion  of  religious  faith. 
Mr.  Babbage,  in  his  Treatise  on  Natural  Theology,  styled  the 
Ninth  Bridgeivatcr  Treatise,  undertakes  to  show  that  miracles 
are  but  natural  and  necessary  results  of  physical  laws  of  vast 
generality,  laws  which  in  virtue  of  their  proper  nature  inter- 
mit at  intervals  so  great  that  the  whole  period  of  man's  abode 
on  the  earth  may  have  passed,  and  yet  the  time  for  such  in- 
termission may  not  yet  have  come.  When  it  docs  come,  the 
miracle  takes  place  not  as  the  effect  of  an  immediate  inter- 
position from  Heaven,  but  as  the  proper  part  of  a  physical 
series  long  since  established ;  and  hence  (an  inference  not 
made  by  Mr.  Babbage  himself,  but  still  unavoidable)  to  appeal 
to  it  as  proof  of  present  supernatural  agency  must  be  fallacious. 
We  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to  protest  against  such  a 
theory  of  miracles  ;*  one  which  would  vindicate  them  from 
the  cavils  of  unbelief  by  transforming  them  from  Divine  inter- 
positions into  natural  phenomena.  But  the  result  which  Mr. 
Babbage  has  reached,  in  spite  of  his  belief  in  God,  is  that  to 
which,  as  it  seems  to  us,  every  logical  mind  must  be  carried, 
if,  prior  to  its  examination  of  the  Bible,  or  independent  of  it, 
it  can  see  no  evidence  of  the  Divine  existence. 

If  we  say  that,  independent  of  miracles,  such  a  mind  could 
find  sufficient  traces  of  the  Deity  in  the  substance  of  Revela- 
tion, in  the  transcendent  excellence  of  its  instructions,  the 
matchless  dignity  and  simplicity  of  its  style,  the  superhuman 
character  of  Christ,  we  cheerfully  assent.     But  in  this  case 

*  See  Part  I.  chap.  iv. 


METHOD,  -,c 

we  appeal  to  natural  rather  than  supernatural  proof,  to  the 
very  same  proof  in  kind  as  that  which  we  employ  when,  from 
the  character  of  the  laws  which  have  been  impressed  on 
material  and  spiritual  substances,  we  rise  to  the  existence  and 
character  of  a  Law-maker,  The  tree  is  known  by  its  fruits. 
The  fruit  to  which  appeal  is  made  in  such  case  is  the  written 
Word, — the  fruit  to  which  we  refer  in  Natural  Religion  is  the 
outward  and  inward  workmanship.  If  the  one  is  written  all 
over  with  the  signature  of  the  Divinity,  why  not  the  other 
also  ?* 

*  See  Part  IV. 


CHAPTER    II. 

RELIGION  FOUNDED   IN  THE    CONSTITUTION  OF  HUMAN 

NATURE. 

I.    THE    FACT. 

OUR  object,  in  this  chapter,  is  to  show  that  humanity 
imperatively  demands  some  form  of  rehgious  faith,  and 
that  the  only  form  which  adequately  meets  that  demand  is 
the  theism  of  Christianity.  If  this  position  is  established,  it 
becomes  evident  that  Religion  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  some- 
thing imposed  on  man  by  arbitrary  authority,  but  as  a  funda- 
mental element  in  his  original  constitution.  It  will  become 
apparent,  too,  that  the  Religion  of  the  Bible  is  no  alien  sys- 
tem, superinduced  by  fraud,  force,  or  fanaticism,  but  a  collec- 
tion of  truths  and  influences,  which  find  in  the  soul  of  man  a 
congenial  home. 

What  is  Religion?  Without  attempting  a  precise  definition, 
it  may  be  sufficient  to  remark  that,  in  its  most  general  sense,  it 
involves  the  conception  of  a  power  or  powers  above  Nature,  on 
which  in  greater  or  less  degree  we  are  dependent,  and  to 
which  we  are  bound  to  render  service.  The  ideas  of  depend- 
ence, worship,  and  obedience,  and  of  a  supernatural  Power, 
are  more  or  less  involved  in  every  form  of  Religion,  whether 
it  be  Monotheism,  Dualism,  or  Polytheism. 

That  Religion,  in  this  general  sense,  represents  a  funda- 
mental characteristic  and  necessity  of  man's  nature  will  be 
apparent — i,  from  the  testimony  of  the  wisest  observers;  2, 
from  history;  3,  from  the  structure  of  languages  ;  and  4,  from 
the  effect  of  renouncing  it  on  the  character  and  welfare  of 
men. 


RELIGION  FOUNDED   IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  37 

1.  The  testimony  ofiuise  men,  who  have  studied  our  nature 
most  successfully  in  its  constitution  and  history,  is  unanimous 
on  this  point.  Says  Edmund  Burke,  "  We  know,  and  it  is 
our  pride  to  know,  that  man  is  by  his  constitution  a  religious 
animal,  and  that  Atheism  is  against  not  only  our  reason  but 
our  instincts,  and  cannot  continue  long."  Says  Heeren,  one 
of  the  ablest  and  most  learned  of  modern  historians,  "Belief 
in  higher  existences,  who  influence  our  destiny  and  corre- 
sponding rites  of  worship,  is  so  connected  with  the  feelings 
of  man  that  it  springs  from  within  him  and  exists  independent 
of  all  research  or  knowledge."*  Lord  Herbert  the  Deist,  and 
John  Wesley  the  Methodist,  unite  in  designating  the  power 
to  know  and  the  disposition  to  worship  a  Supreme  Being  as 
that  which  alone  or  chiefly  discriminates  man  from  all  other 
animals.  Plato,  in  the  Tenth  Book  of  his  Laws,  when  about 
to  enter  on  the  argument  of  Natural  Theology,  appeals  to 
this  universality  of  religious  faith  among  unsophisticated 
minds,  and  does  it,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  with  hatred  and 
indignation  against  those  who  compelled  (him)  to  engage  in 
such  an  argument." 

2.  History  attests  the  same  fact.  No  nation,  advanced  above 
the  most  abject  barbarism,  has  been  discovered  which  had 
not  some  kind  of  religious  faith ;  and  it  is  doubtful  whether 
the  absence  of  all  such  faith  can  be  justly  affirmed  of  any 
people  whatever.  But  one  nation,  possessing  the  ideas  of 
God  and  immortality,  was  ever  known  to  renounce  them  even 
in  form ;  and  in  that  memorable  case  (the  French)  it  was  not 
the  deliberate  act  of  a  whole  people,  but  rather  the  phrensy 
of  a  Parisian  mob,  bent  on  escaping  from  civil  grievances, 
real  or  imaginary,  which  they  had  been  taught  to  associate  with 
the  clergy  and  the  prevailing  faith.  "  What  nation  is  there," 
says  Cicero,  "  or  what  race  of  men,  which  has  not,  without 
any  previous  instruction,  some  idea  of  the  gods?     Now,  that 


*  Researches  on  Ancient  Greece,  chap.  iii. 


38 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


in  which  all  men  agree  must  7iccessarily  be  inie."  "  If  you  go 
through  the  earth,"  says  Plutarch,  "  you  will  perhaps  observe 
cities  without  walls,  without  letters,  sunk  in  the  greatest  ig- 
norance ;  but  we  shall  not  see  one  which  does  not  worship 
the  Deity.  But  even  if,  as  some  assert,  there  are  tribes  to  be 
found  among  whom  no  traces  of  religion  are  discovered,  it 
ought  not  to  seem  strange  that  barbarians — who  have  in  some 
measure  thrown  aside  the  human  nature  and  assumed  a  kind 
of  brutal  wildness — have  lost  that  which  is  peculiar  to  man. 
Without  understanding,  there  is  no  notion  of  a  Deity  and  no 
sense  of  religion,  and  therefore  these  cannot  apply  to  the 
brutes,  and,  consequently,  not  to  those  who  have  almost  de- 
generated into  brutes."  Religious,  like  other  ideas,  presup- 
pose some  degree  of  mental  development ;  and  when  the 
means  for  such  development  are  wanting  (as  in  the  case  of 
uninstructed  deaf  mutes),  we  are  not  to  wonder  that  they  do 
not  exhibit  or  even  possess  them.  It  is  affirmed,  however, 
by  those  who  teach  the  deaf  and  dumb,  that  in  proportion  as 
they  become  capable  of  reflection,  in  the  same  proportion 
they  manifest  a  disposition  to  inquire  into  the  Original  Cause 
of  things,  to  recognize  their  accountability  to  an  unseen 
Judge,  and  to  find  an  object  for  religious  worship  and  adora- 
tion. "  It  would  be  difficult,"  says  Heeren,  "  and  perhaps 
impossible,  to  find  a  nation  which  can  show  no  vestiges  of 
religion ;  and  there  never  has  been,  nor  can  there  be,  a 
nation  in  which  the  reverence  for  a  superior  being  was  but 
the  fruit  of  refined  Philosophy." 

History  yields  another  great  fact,  which  demonstrates  that 
Religion  is  one  of  the  essential  wants  of  our  nature.  States- 
men and  Legislators  have  found  that  nations  could  not  be 
well  and  wisely  governed  without  it.  Poets,  and  Artists  too, 
all  the  world  over,  have  appealed  to  it  as  one  of  the  most 
powerful  means  of  impressing  the  Imagination  and  the  Heart. 
"  If  there  were  no  God,"  said  Voltaire,  "  we  should  be  obliged 
to  invent  one;"   and  the  whole  history  of  literature  and  of 


RELIGION  FOUNDED   IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  ^q 

nations  witnesses  to  the  sagacity  of  the  remark.  Take  away 
from  laws  all  religious  sanction,  and  from  poetry,  painting, 
eloquence,  sculpture  all  reference  to  the  supernatural,  and 
who  does  not  feel  that  the  most  essential  element  of  their 
power  and  beauty  would  be  gone?  Now,  neither  poets,  legis- 
lators, nor  statesmen  are  so  mad  as  to  propose  the  introduc- 
tion into  human  nature  of  any  new  principles.  They  take 
man  as  they  find  him.  By  careful  and  extended  observation 
they  learn  what  sentiments  and  aspirations  are  most  deeply 
planted Tn  his  soul,  and  then  vindicate  their  wisdom  and  skill 
by  the  success  with  which  they  appeal  to  them. 

3.  TJie  lang7iagcs  of  tlie  cartJi  bear  similar  testimony.  A  na- 
tion's language  is  the  best  exponent  of  the  natural  operations 
of  its  mind  and  heart.  The  original  and  necessary  concep- 
tions of  those  who  speak  it,  as  well  as  their  peculiar  character- 
istics and  experiences,  become  incorporated  with  its  whole 
structure.  Hence  whatever  we  find  in  all  languages  may  be 
assumed  as  the  universal  attribute  of  humanity.  Now,  it  is 
believed  that  there  is  no  language  of  ancient  or  modern 
origin,  whether  spoken  by  savage  or  civilized  man,  in  which 
the  distinction  between  the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  the 
human  and  the  superhuman  or  divine,  the  morally  right  and 
the  morally  wrong  is  not  in  some  way  indicated.  Every  lan- 
guage into  which  the  Scriptures  have  been  translated  has 
yielded  terms  or  phrases  to  designate  God,  Immortality,  and 
Recompense ;  and  the  pre-existing  notions  and  capacities  of 
the  people  have  prepared  a  way  for  the  teachings  of  the  Mis- 
sionary. Here,  then,  is  evidence  that  everywhere  man  has 
been  carried,  by  the  instinctive  workings  of  his  heart,  towards 
religious  faith.  If  the  fact  that,  with  rare  exceptions,  he 
everywhere  seeks  society  prove  him  to  be  a  social  being,  the 
fact  that  he  everywhere  recognizes  objects  of  worship  pro- 
claims him,  on  the  same  principle,  to  be  by  nature  a  "  re- 
ligious animal." 

4.  Tlie  opposite  effects  of  Atheism  and  Religion  prove  also 


40 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


that  faith  in  the  latter  is  demanded  by  the  constitution  of 
man's  nature.  "  To  deny  a  God,"  says  Bacon,*  "  destroys 
magnanimity  and  the  raising  of  human  nature."  "  Man,  when 
he  restcth  and  assureth  himself  of  divine  protection  and  favor, 
gathereth  a  force  and  faith  which  human  nature  could  not  ob- 
tain. Therefore  as  Atheism  is  in  all  respects  hateful,  so  in 
this  that  it  depriveth  human  nature  of  the  means  to  exalt 
itself  above  human  frailty."  "  Let  a  man  live,"  says  Dr. 
Arnold,  "  on  the  atheistic  hypothesis,  the  practical  result 
will  be  bad:  that  is,  a  man's  besetting  and  constitutional  faults 
will  not  be  checked,  and  some  of  his  noblest  feelings  will  be 
unexercised, — so  that  if  he  be  right  in  his  opinions,  truth  and 
goodness  are  at  variance  with  one  another,  and  falsehood  is 
more  favorable  to  our  moral  perfection  than  truth,  which 
seems  the  most  monstrous  conclusion  a  man  can  arrive  at."t 
All  this  appears  so  obvious,  and  is  so  clearly  confirmed  by 
the  testimony  of  history  and  experience,  that  we  need  not 
dwell  upon  it  further  in  this  place. 

We  conclude,  then,  tliat  faith  in  religio7i  of  some  kind  is 
the  laiv  of  man's  nature ;  unbelief,  the  exception.  All  the 
Atheists  of  whom  we  have  knowledge  may  be  found  in  one 
of  four  classes: — First,  ignorant  but  self-sufficient  inquirers, 
who,  though  they  may  have  been  honest  in  the  pursuit  of 
truth,  yet  chose  paths  so  tortuous,  and  brought  to  the  subject 
so  little  of  the  genial  light  of  a  warm  heart  and  an  humble 
spirit,  that  they  lost  themselves  in  a  labyrinth  of  specula- 
tion or  became  inflated  with  pride  and  vanity.  Sir  Samuel 
Romilly,  writing  from  Paris,  of  the  French  Atheists  of  the 
last  century,  says,  "I  am  not  vain  enough  to  pronounce  what 
is  the  extent  of  Diderot's  or  D'Alembert's  learning  and  ca- 
pacity, but,  without  an  overfond  opinion  of  myself,  I  may 
judge  of  the  subordinate  Atheists,  the  mob  of  the  Republic 
of  Letters,  the  plebccula   who   have    no    opinion   but  what 


*  Essay  on  Atheism.  •}•  Letter  in  his  Life. 


RELIGION  FOUNDED  IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  a^ 

their  arbitrary  tribunes  dictate  to  them,  and  in  these  I  have 
generally  found  the  grossest  ignorance.  The  cause  of  modern 
Atheism,  like  that  of  the  Atheism  of  antiquity,  as  Plato  re- 
presents it,  is  the  most  dreadful  ignorance  disguised  under 
the  name  of  the  sublimest  wisdom."* 

A  second  class  of  Atheists  is  composed  of  the  suffering  and 
oppressed,  who  have  abjured  religion  only  because  it  has  be- 
come associated  in  their  minds  with  the  wrongs  or  evils  they 
endure.  A  third  class,  of  the  abandoned  in  life  and  manners, 
whose  safety  so  urgently  requires  that  there  should  be  no 
avenging  God,  that  as  parties  interested  in  the  issue  of  the 
controversy  they  cannot  claim  to  be  its  arbiters.  And  a  fourth 
class,  of  those  who,  having  rested  their  faith  on  a  false  founda- 
tion early  in  life,  underwent,  on  discovering  its  rottenness,  a 
violent  revulsion  of  feeling,  and,  with  their  superstition,  re- 
nounced both  their  reason  and  their  higher  instincts. 

The  all  but  universal  prevalence  of  religious  faith,  and  its 
deep  connaturalness  with  man's  instincts  and  wants,  is  the 
only  fact  which  we  insist  upon  here.  Whether  it  spring 
spontaneously  from  the  mind,  in  the  presence  of  the  objects 
and  facts  by  which  it  is  surrounded,  or  whether,  in  the  first 
instance,  it  is  given  by  external  revelation,  and  then  trans- 
mitted by  tradition,  is  a  question  which  does  not  touch  the 
position  taken  in  this  chapter.  To  us  it  appears  likely  that  a 
faith  so  momentous  should  be  entrusted,  at  the  outset,  to  the 
simplest  and  most  necessary  workings  of  the  soul,  rather 
than  to  the  shifting  sands  of  tradition.  But  from  whatever 
quarter  it  may  first  come,  the  human  mind  seems  to  find  in 
the  outer  world  of  sense,  and  the  inner  world  of  thought  and 
feeling,  continual  evidences  of  its  validity.  Rarely,  as  we  have 
before  observed,  is  this  religious  belief,  when  once  attained  to, 
ever  afterwards  surrendered.  In  the  vicissitudes  of  a  na- 
tion's history,  everything  else  may  have  been  parted  with, — 

*  See  his  Life,  vol.  i. 


42 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


manners,  arts,  institutions ; — its  ancestral  pride,  its  love  of 
glory,  its  patriotic  fervor,  all  may  have  died  out, — but  it  does 
not  let  go  all  religious  faith.  Though  corruption  may  have 
come  in  as  a  flood,  and  public  virtue  and  private  manners  may 
alike  have  caught  the  pestiferous  infection,  still  the  soul  can- 
not but  have  something  to  worship,  something  beyond  the 
world  of  sense,  in  the  vast  regions  of  the  infinite  and  invisi- 
ble, to  fear  or  love. 

Is  it  said  that  most  of  the  religions  which  have  prevailed 
among  men  have  been  monstrous  perversions  of  truth,  and 
that  to  cling  to  such  superstitions  argues  but  little  religious 
sensibility,  and  still  less  of  religious  capacity?  We  answer, 
that  the  counterfeits  which  have  been  imposed  on  mankind, 
under  the  hallowed  name  of  religion,  only  prove  its  reality. 
That  men  instinctively  love  truth  does  not  protect  them  from 
error,  but  often  impels  them  to  cling  more  tenaciously  to  it 
when  it  is  truth's  counterfeit.  And  so  it  is  with  religion.  Long 
ago  the  caricatures  which  have  gained  its  name  would  have 
been  driven  from  the  world  but  for  the  portion  of  truth 
which  they  contain,  and  the  appeal  which  they  thereby  make 
to  man's  deepest  and  most  irrepressible  convictions.  New 
counterfeits,  as  they  appear,  gain  a  temporary  currency  only, 
because  men  feel  that  there  is  genuine  coin  somewhere,  and 
because  they  are  but  too  willing  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
their  religious  nature  at  the  expense  of  their  understandings 
or  their  virtue. 

WJiat  is  tJie  Theism  of  the  Christian  Scriptures?  If,  to  the 
ideas  already  specified  as  forming  our  most  general  concep- 
tion of  Religion,  we  add  the  notion  of  one  Personal  and  Su- 
preme God,  and  also  that  of  the  immortality  and  future  ac- 
countability of  man,  we  get  Tlicism.  To  these,  again,  add  the 
idea  of  Redemption,  and  we  have  the  most  essential  notions 
conveyed  by  the  terms  Christian  Theism.  We  are  to  show 
that  the  demand  of  human  nature  for  some  religion  cannot 
be  completely  satisfied  short  of  Theism,  and  that  the  Theism 


RELIGION  FOUNDED  IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  47 

taught  in  the  Christian  Scriptures  is  that  which  is  best  fitted 
for  the  purpose.  The  full  development  of  these  views  will  be 
reserved  for  the  succeeding  parts  of  this  work.  In  this  place 
they  are  merely  indicated. 

The  unity  and  spirituality  of  God  were  discerned  even  by 
wise  Pagans,  when  surrounded  by  idolatry  and  polytheism. 
"  When  I  write  seriously,"  says  Plato  in  his  Epistle  to  Dio- 
nysius  (if  Plato  were  the  author),  "  I  begin  the  Epistle  with 
the  mention  of  one  God ;  if  otherwise,  with  the  mention  of 
mo7r  tJian  one!'  "We  must,  above  all  things,  learn,"  says 
Epictetus,  "  that  there  is  one  God,  who  governs  all  things  by 
his  providence."  So  Pythagoras,  Plato,  and  Numa,  accord- 
ing to  Lactantius,  recognized  the  spirituality  of  God,  and  on 
that  account  forbade  any  image  of  Him  to  be  made.  Tertul- 
lian,  in  his  treatise  called  the  Witness  of  the  Soul,  shows  that 
everywhere,  in  the  midst  of  their  corruption  and  idolatry, 
men  unconsciously  recognized  the  One  true  God.  That 
eloquent  treatise  is  little  more  than  an  expansion  of  the  fol- 
lowing passage  from  the  same  author's  Apology:  "Will  ye 
that  we  prove  Him  to  be,  by  the  zvitness  of  the  so7il  itself 
which  although  confined  by  the  prison  of  the  body,  although 
straitened  by  evil  training,  although  unnerved  by  lusts  and 
desires,  although  made  the  servant  of  false  gods,*  yet,  when 
it  recovereth  itself  as  from  a  surfeit,  as  from  a  slumber,  as 
from  some  infirmity,  and  is  in  proper  condition  of  soundness, 
it  nameth  God  by  this  name  only,  because  the  proper  name 
of  the  true  God.  '  Great  God,'  '  Good  God,'  and  '  which  God 
grant,'  are  words  in  every  mouth.  It  witnesseth  also  that  He 
is  its  Judge.  '  God  seeth,'  '  I  commend  to  God,'  '  God  shall 
recompense  me.'  O  testimony  of  a  soul  by  nature  Chris- 
tian! Finally,  in  pronouncing  these  words,  it  looketh  not 
to  the  Capitol  but  to  Heaven;  for  it  knoweth  the  dwelling- 


*  St.  Cyprian  has  the  same  sentiment  in  chapter  v.  De  Idolorum  Vanitate, 
viz.,  Atque  hcec  est  summa  delicti,  nolle  agnoscere  quern  ignorare  non  possis. 


44  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

place  of  the  true  God.  From  Him  and  from  thence  it  de- 
scended." 

Tertullian  here  copies  St.  Paul.  In  his  Epistle  to  the  Ro- 
mans, that  Apostle  clearly  maintains  the  competency  of  the 
heathen  mind  to  discern,  without  the  aid  of  Revelation,  the 
Eternal  power  and  Godhead  of  the  Creator,  and  many  of  the 
moral  requirements  of  his  Law.  Idolatr)',  with  all  its  atro- 
cities and  degradation,  he  denounces  not  as  the  necessary  off- 
spring of  natural  imbecility  and  ignorance,  but  as  a  device 
introduced  for  the  express  purpose  of  obscuring  the  great 
truths  of  Theism  taught  by  Nature  and  of  quieting  con- 
sciences ill  at  ease.  And  whoever  would  see  this  account 
of  the  origin  of  idolatry  confirmed,  by  a  critical  examination 
of  the  Religions  and  Literature  of  the  ancient  world,  has  but 
to  read  the  Intellectual  System  of  the  Universe,  by  Cudworth. 
He  will  there  find  that,  amidst  all  the  monstrous  inventions 
of  Paganism,  the  doctrine  of  one  Eternal  and  Supreme  God 
always  retained  some  hold  on  men's  minds ;  that  no  age,  nor 
state,  nor  people  can  be  found  where  the  Jehovah  of  the  Bible 
was  not  dimly  seen  as  Jupiter  or  Ammon,  as  Deus  or  the 
Unknown  God.  The  idea  that  Polytheism  was  the  highest 
form  of  religious  belief,  even  among  Polytheists  themselves, 
he  puts  to  flight ;  and  he  shows  that  wherever  man  has  dwelt 
there  he  has  been  taught,  from  the  world  within  and  the 
world  without,  that  God  is,  and  that  He  is  the  rewarder  of  all 
such  as  diligently  seek  Him. 

The  human  mind,  then,  in  proportion  as  it  is  free  from  vice, 
and  developed  by  active  culture,  demands  a  faith  which  rests 
in  Theism.  This  is  rendered  still  more  apparent  by  the 
history  of  Philosophy.  The  early  Philosophies  were  Cos- 
mogonies, or  attempts  to  account  for  the  origin  of  the  world, 
and  especially  of  the  material  universe.  Now,  of  the  problem 
which  relates  to  the  origin  of  things,  there  seem  to  be  but 
four  possible  solutions :  that  which  makes  them  the  creation 
of  one  Spiritual  and  Personal  God  (Theism);  that  which  traces 


RELIGION  FOUNDED   IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  ^c 

them  to  two  or  more  separate  Powers  (Dualism  or  Polytheism); 
that  which  identifies  the  Creator  with  his  creatures  (Pantheism); 
and  that  which  finds  the  origin  of  things  in  matter  eternal  and 
self-subsisting  (Materialism).  To  any  one  at  all  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  Philosophy,  it  would  be  superfluous  to  say 
that  the  last  of  these,  which  is  the  only  Atheistic  school,  has 
always,  both  in  the  East  and  West,  been  small.  The  vast 
majority  of  philosophers  have  recognized  a  supernatural  origin 
for  the  universe  ;  and  in  the  West  this  recognition  has,  in  a 
great  proportion  of  instances,  embraced  the  idea  of  one  God, 
Creator  of  Heaven  and  Earth.  Even  in  the  Chinese  Phi- 
losophy, it  is  assumed,  at  the  outset,  that  the  human  mind 
has  always  conceived  the  primitive  root  and  ground  of  all 
things  as  in  God,  and  to  this  God,  as  at  once  above,  and  yet 
supporting  all  things,  they  have  given  the  name  of  the  Great 
Suviuiit.  Of  all  the  Grecian  Schools,  we  find  but  one  (the 
Physical  Eleatic)  which  attempted  to  dispense  with  the  notion 
of  one  God  as  the  source  and  origin  of  the  universe ;  and  that 
was  a  natural  and  almost  inevitable  recoil  from  the  extrava- 
gant results  reached  by  the  Metaphysical  Eleatics.  It  was 
Materialism,  as  a  simple  reaction  from  Pantheism.  If  we 
begin  with  Thales,  and  come  down  through  Anaxagoras, 
Pythagoras,  Heraclitus,  Socrates,  Antisthenes,  Plato,  and 
Aristotle,  we  find  them  all  pointing  to  God  as  the  author 
of  all  things,  and  gradually  evolving  out  of  the  Pantheistic 
conceptions,  which  had  come  from  the  East,  the  idea  of  One 
Personal  God,  the  source  of  all  motion  (Aristotle),  the  sub- 
stance of  all  ideas  and  the  cause  of  forms  (Plato),  the  active 
principle  of  the  universe  (Stoics),  the  wise  man's  model,  and 
the  perfection  of  order,  justice,  and  holiness. 

Another  evidence  that  the  doctrines  of  Christian  Theism 
are  connatural  with  humanity,  in  its  best  estate,  is  found  in 
the  fact  that  tJiis,  more  powerfully  than  any  other  form  of 
Religion,  promotes  the  improvement  of  the  vidhndual  and  of 
society,  and  that  it  becomes  the  source  of  enjoyment  and  the 


46  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

spring  of  advancement,  just  in  proportion  as  human  nature 
attains  to  its  most  pure  and  defecated  form.  In  proportion 
as  faith  in  ReHgion  approximates  to  a  living  and  simple 
Christianity,  in  the  same  proportion  it  becomes  a  great  re- 
generator for  the  individual  and  for  the  state.  Was  ever  man 
made  worse  by  faith  in  One  God  as  Creator  of  all  things,  and 
righteous  Judge  of  quick  and  dead?  Was  he  ever  made  better 
by  renouncing  that  faith  ?  Can  any  one  imagine  that  Epi- 
curus would  have  been  a  worse  man  if  he  had  believed  with 
Anaxagoras,  or  that  Newton  would  have  been  a  better  one 
if  he  had  doubted  and  scoffed  with  D'Alembert  ?  Can  we 
think  that  Augustine  or  Luther,  Alfred  the  Great  or  Sir  Mat- 
thew Hale,  Locke  or  Leibnitz,  Sir  Robert  Boyle  or  John  Milton, 
were  deteriorated  in  character  by  their  faith  in  the  Christian's 
God ;  or  that  Cicero  and  Aristotle,  Plato  and  Socrates,  would 
not  have  been  yet  nobler  men,  men  of  loftier  spirit  and  of 
greater  service  to  mankind,  if  their  hearts  had  been  awed 
and  cheered  by  the  light  which  beams  from  a  supernatural 
revelation?  Lord  Shaftesbury  was  a  Deist,  yet  how  much 
more  genial  and  ennobling  is  even  his  philosophy  than  that 
of  the  Polytheist,  the  Pantheist,  or  the  Atheist !  He  is  in- 
sisting on  the  value  of  "a  steady  opinion  of  the  superin- 
tendency  of  a  Supreme  Being,  a  witness  and  spectator  of 
human  life,  conscious  of  whatever  is  felt  or  acted  in  the  uni- 
verse ;  so  that  in  the  perfectest  recess  or  deepest  solitude 
there  must  be  one  still  presumed  remaining  with  us  whose 
presence  singly  must  be  of  more  moment  than  that  of  the 
most  august  assembly  upon  earth ;  and  that  in  such  a  presence, 
as  the  shame  of  guilty  actions  must  be  the  greatest  of  any,  so 
must  the  honor  be  of  well-doing,  even  under  the  unjust  cen- 
sures of  the  world.  In  this  case,  it  is  very  apparent  how  con- 
ducing a  perfect  theism  must  be  to  virtue,  and  how  great  a 
deficiency  there  must  be  in  Atheism."* 

*  Characteristics,  vol.  ii.  p.  57. 


RELIGION  FOUNDED  IN  HUMAN  NATURE. 


47 


As  with  individuals,  so  with  nations.  PubUc  spirit  and 
Public  virtue  have  always  flourished  most  when  religious  faith 
has  been  simplest  and  most  active.  The  marriage  tie  and  the 
right  of  property,  the  two  most  powerful  elements  in  social  pro- 
gress, have  always  been  held  sacred  in  proportion  as  the  re- 
ligion of  the  Bible  has  been  honored.  Hence  the  solicitude 
with  which  wise  statesmen  have  always  nursed  and  encouraged 
the  popular  faith  in  the  avenging  gods ;  hence  the  special 
care  with  which  the  best  and  wisest  Christian  Legislators 
have  endeavored  to  protect  their  people  from  the  inroads  of 
Superstition,  Idolatry,  and  Irreligion ;  and  hence  the  fact,  so 
striking  in  the  history  of  ancient  states,  that  their  earlier 
periods,  those  in  which  they  felt  most  deeply  their  depend- 
ence and  their  accountability  to  Heaven,  were  their  periods 
of  most  heroic  enterprise.  When  national  vices  have  sway, 
when  public  faith  is  held  of  little  account,  and  private  man- 
ners are  dissolute,  then  it  is  that  Irreligion,  or  false  Religion, 
is  most  apt  to  flourish, — at  once  the  effect  and  the  cause  of 
degeneracy  : — its  effect,  because  the  corrupt  heart  resorts  to  it 
as  a  shelter  against  the  protests  and  rebukes  of  conscience  ; 
its  cause  also,  since  it  emboldens  its  disciples  to  a  tenfold 
hardihood  in  sin.  Thus  it  was  in  Greece,  after  the  age  of 
Pericles,  in  Rome,  after  that  of  Augustus,  and  in  France,  at 
the  close  of  the  detestable  Regency. 

If  we  have  stated  the  facts  correctly,  the  conclusion  seems 
inevitable.  Either  we  must  suppose  that  the  opinions  which 
have  been  invariably  attended,  in  individuals  and  in  states,  with 
the  noblest  developments  of  worth  and  power, — which,  adopted 
heartily,  render  men  and  nations  better  and  wiser,  and  there- 
fore happier, — which,  abandoned,  or  held  only  in  name,  leave 
them  to  sink  rapidly  in  all  that  adorns  and  dignifies  life, — we 
must  suppose  that  what  is  followed  by  such  results  is  truth,  or 
we  must  suppose  that  Error  is  the  prolific  parent  of  blessings, 
the  generous  benefactor  of  mankind !  Elsewhere  error  is 
always  noxious,  truth  always  beneficent.      Is  it  in  Religion 


48 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


only  that  we  are  to  look  for  an  exception?  And  if  we  are  to 
estimate  different  systems  of  Religion  by  their  influence  on 
the  welfare  of  mankind,  is  it  not  evident  that  the  Religion 
of  the  Bible  has  paramount  claims  on  our  regard?  All  ex- 
perience proclaims  that  held  in  simplicity,  and  with  a  living 
faith,  its  doctrines  constitute  the  safety  of  nations  and  the  un- 
failing well-spring  of  improvement  and  happiness. 

The  necessities  of  Art,  and  of  our  daily  life,  attest  also  the 
transcendent  value  of  a  Divine  faith.  What  would  become, 
for  example,  of  the  eloquence,  the  poetry,  the  fine  arts  of 
the  world,  if  we  were  to  eliminate  from  them  the  ideas  of 
Religion?  Homer,  without  his  gods,  would  be  Homer  no 
longer ;  nor  would  Virgil  be  himself  without  his  dark  world 
of  the  mysterious  and  supernatural.  But  modern  Literature 
has  found  in  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments 
yet  grander  means  of  swaying  the  hearts  of  men.  The  my- 
thologies of  Pagan  Poetry  "  pale  their  ineffectual  fires"  before 
the  celestial  agents  of  a  Milton  and  a  Dante,  and  these,  again, 
are  poor  and  tame  when  compared  with  the  visions  of  Isaiah 
and  Job,  of  Ezekiel  and  St.  John.  Let  Painting  and  Sculpture 
give  back  what  they  have  borrowed  from  the  Gospels  and 
the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  they  would  be  actually  im- 
poverished. If  the  theism  of  Moses  and  David  be  a  fiction, 
the  human  heart  has  stamped  it  as  a  fiction  necessary  to  its 
grandest  and  most  affecting  conceptions.  If  the  story  of 
Jesus  and  his  disciples  be  a  fable,  it  is  a  fable  which  the  hu- 
man soul  most  imperiously  craves  at  the  very  moment  that  it 
swells  with  the  largest  thoughts  and  the  most  sublime  aspi- 
rations. When  the  mind  is  ushered  into  an  ideal  world,  it 
does  not  part  with  reason  and  truth.  It  sees  them  only  ex- 
panded and  illuminated  in  the  light  of  imagination  and  pas- 
sion ;  and  that  it  must  at  such  times  have  these  visions  of 
Divinity,  of  Angel  and  Archangel,  of  an  avenging  Hell  and 
a  blissful  Heaven, — this  is  proof  how  congenial  they  are  with 
Truth  and  with  our  noblest  moods  of  being.     And  that  all 


RELIGION  FOUNDED   IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  ^g 

modern  Art  has  turned  instinctively  to  the  story  of  redemp- 
tion from  sin,  and  triumph  over  sorrow  and  corruption, — this 
proves  that  redemption  is  no  strange  fact,  but  one  most  con- 
natural with  the  necessities  and  aspirations  of  our  souls. 

And  how  is  it  if  we  look  from  Literature  to  Life  ?  There 
are  times  when  the  even  tenor  of  our  days  is  rudely  broken; 
precipices  seem  to  yawn, — tempests  lower, — all  our  strength 
seems  but  weakness,  and  all  our  wisdom  but  imbecility.  At 
such  an  hour,  when  perplexity  seizes  the  soul,  does  it  crave 
no  Almighty  Counsellor?  No  friend  as  rich  in  resources  as 
He  is  constant  in  love?  Is  there  no  panting  after  One  who 
can  hush  this  wild  war  of  the  moral  elements,  and  anchor  us 
safely  where  there  is  hope  and  peace  ?  Or  when  the  heart  sits 
desolate,  paralyzed  by  bereavements,  which  make  life  one  fear- 
ful void,  one  mighty  tomb, — when  all  the  consolation  which 
sympathizing  friends  can  pour  into  our  ears  seems  to  freeze  upon 
our  spirits, — at  such  an  hour,  never  to  be  forgotten,  does  not  the 
heart  crave  higher  ministry  than  any  earth  has  to  give  ?  Does 
it  not  crave  a  voice  of  comfort  from  other  worlds,  from  a 
power  that  can  bind  up  what  itself  has  broken,  and  which 
seems  to  say,  There  is  balm  even  for  thy  wounds :  Fear  not, 
for  I  am  with  thee?  Or,  again,  when  the  summons  rings  upon 
our  ears  that  the  hour  for  arduous,  eventful  duty  has  come, — 
when  we  feel  that  immeasurable  good  or  evil  may  ensue  from 
what  we  are  about  to  do  or  dare, — when  we  grapple  with  the 
untried  difficulties  of  the  task,  faint-hearted  friends,  untiring, 
subtle  foes,  a  frowning  world,  beleaguered  truth, — when  only 
duty  and  honor  cheer  us  on,  while  cold  prudence,  or  false 
shame,  or  weariness  of  spirit  bid  us  back, — who  does  not  feel, 
at  such  an  hour,  his  need  of  strength  from  Heaven,  from  One 
who  can  reassure  his  fainting  zeal,  and  give  him  pledge,  if  not 
of  literal  success,  yet  of  full  and  final  recompense?  How  has 
it  been  with  the  men  who  have  embalmed  their  names  in  the 
world's  history,  and  who  are  now  honored  as  its  best  bene- 
factors ?     The   illustrious   dead,  who,   though  they  sleep  in 

4 


CO  THE    THREE    WITNESSES.  ' 

glorious  beds,  serve  as  watchwords,  as  loadstars,  to  those 
who  would  live  for  their  country  and  for  mankind, — what  fired 
their  eye  and  braced  their  hearts  when  all  things  seemed  to 
be  against  them  ?  Were  there  no  thoughts  of  that  verdict  of 
aftertimes,  which  their  conscious  spirits,  though  disembodied, 
might  still  be  permitted  to  hear?  Was  there  no  thought, 
above  all,  of  a  superintending,  succoring  Providence, — no  sense 
of  the  Presence  of  One,  like  unto  the  Son  of  Man,  who  seemed 
to  be  with  them  in  the  fiery  furnace,  and  whose  pledge  and 
promise  they  had  that  He  would  be  the  shield  of  their 
strength  and  the  sword  of  their  excellency? 

Even  in  hours  less  trying,  what  gives  to  life  its  flavor? — 
what  prevents  it  from  becoming  vapid  as  if  the  wine  was  on 
its  lees  ?     In  prosperity,  what  saves  the  heart  from  the  sick- 
ening sense  of  satiety  ? — what  from  despondence  and  disgust 
amidst  the  minor  disappointments  of  our  lot? — what  cheers 
the  hardy  sons  of  toil  when  struggling  beneath  the  pressure 
of  present  or  of  anticipated  want? — and  in  all  the  countless 
changes   and  chances    of  a   life,  never  free  from  vicissitude, 
what  keeps  the  heart  poised  in  tranquil  trust  and  hope  ?     Or, 
on  the   other  hand,   does   that  heart  swell  with    delight  at 
escape  from  danger,  at  restoration  from  sickness,  at  deliver- 
ance from  pinching  poverty,  at  emancipation   from  the  op- 
pressor's wrong,  the   proud   man's  contumely?     How   irre- 
pressibly  does  it  yearn  after  the  presence  of  its  benefactor, — 
and  how  deeply  does  it  feel  that  it  can  taste  the  fulness  of  a 
transporting  gratitude  only  in  communion  with  One  so  ex- 
alted in  power  and  wisdom  that  He  can  become  the  Efficient, 
not  merely  the  instrumental,  cause  of  our  felicity !     Yes,  how 
necessary  to  add  this  sentiment  of  pious,  religious  thanksgiving 
to  the  mere  pleasure  of  escape,  and  to  cherish  the  ennobling 
consciousness  that,  though  but  worms,  we  are  yet  the  objects 
of  care  to  God ! 

In  exchange  for  such  unfailing  well-springs  of  happiness, 
which  can  be  found  in  religious  faith,  what  has  skepticism  to 


RELIGION  FOUNDED   IN  HUMAN  NATURE. 


51 


offer  ?  Let  one  of  its  most  favored  votaries  answer.  "  Me- 
thinks,"  says  Hume,  in  his  Treatise  of  Human  Nature  (Book 
L  Part  IV.  sect.  7),  "  methinks  I  am  like  a  man  who,  having 
struck  on  many  shoals,  and  having  narrowly  escaped  ship- 
wreck in  passing  a  small  frith,  has  yet  the  temerity  to  put 
out  to  sea  in  the  same  weather-beaten,  leaky  vessel.  My 
memory  of  past  errors  makes  me  diffident  for  the  future. 
The  wretched  condition,  weakness,  and  disorder  of  the  facul- 
ties I  must  employ  in  my  inquiries  increase  my  apprehensions  ; 
and  the  impossibility  of  correcting  or  amending  these  faculties 
reduces  me  almost  to  despair,  and  makes  me  resolve  to  perish 
on  the  barren  rock,  on  which  I  am  at  present,  rather  than 
venture  myself  on  that  boundless  Ocean  which  runs  out  into 
immensity.  This  sudden  view  of  my  danger  strikes  me  with 
melancholy.  I  am  affrighted  and  confounded  with  that  for- 
lorn solitude  in  which  I  am  placed  in  my  philosophy,  and 
fancy  myself  some  strange,  uncouth  monster,  who,  not  being 
able  to  mingle  and  unite  in  society,  has  been  expelled  all 
human  commerce,  and  left  utterly  abandoned  and  disconsolate. 
Fain  would  I  run  into  the  crowd  for  shelter  and  for  warmth, 
but  cannot  prevail  with  myself  to  mix  with  such  deformity. 
When  I  look  abroad,  I  foresee  on  every  side  dispute,  con- 
tradiction, anger,  calumny,  and  detraction.  When  I  turn  my 
eye  inward,  I  find  nothing  but  doubt  and  ignorance.  Every 
step  I  take  is  with  hesitation,  and  every  new  reflection  makes 
me  dread  an  error  and  absurdity  in  my  reasoning.  Where  am 
I,  or  what?  From  what  causes  do  I  derive  my  exist^ince, 
and  to  what  condition  shall  I  return  ?  Whose  favor  shall  I 
court,  and  whose  anger  must  I  dread  ?  What  beings  sur- 
round me,  and  on  whom  have  I  any  influence,  and  who  have 
any  influence  over  me  ?  I  am  confounded  with  all  these 
questions,  and  begin  to  fancy  myself  in  the  most  deplorable 
condition  imaginable,  environed  with  the  deepest  darkness, 
and  utterly  deprived  of  every  member  and  faculty." 

Is  this  an  enviable  state  of  mind  ?   Deeply  as  we  may  com- 


52 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


miscrate  his  lot  who  is  driven  by  his  profligacy  to  avow  him- 
self an  Atheist,  yet  even  he  perhaps  is  less  intensely  wretched 
than  a  spirit  like  this,  endowed  with  almost  matchless  sub- 
tlety, when  once  it  has  recoiled  from  ancestral  faith,  and  cast 
itself  adrift  on  the  boundless  waste  of  Skepticism. 

"Are  these  the  pompous  tidings  ye  proclaim, 
Lights  of  the  world  and  Demigods  of  Fame? 
Is  this  your  triumph,  this  your  proud  applause, 
Children  of  Truth  and  champions  of  her  cause  ? 
Let  Wisdom  smile  not  on  her  conquered  field : 
No  rapture  dawns,  no  treasure  is  revealed! 
Oh,  let  her  read  not  loudly,  or  elate. 
The  doom  that  bars  us  from  a  better  fate  ! 
But,  sad  as  angels  for  the  good  man's  sin, 
Weep  to  record  and  blush  to  give  it  in." 


n.  THE    FACT    EXPLAINED. 

We  have  now  seen  that  man  is  so  constituted  that  Religion, 
considered  objectively,  is  a  leading  want  of  his  nature,  and 
that  Christian  Theism  is  that  form  of  religion  which  seems  to 
correspond  best  with  the  demands  of  the  soul.  The  more 
carefully  the  ideas  of  God,  Immortality,  Recompense,  and  Re- 
demption are  considered,  in  their  connection  with  our  nature 
and  with  its  condition  and  aspirations,  the  more  clearly  will 
they  vindicate  themselves  as  the  true  correspondents  to  our 
religious  life.  It  remains,  then,  that  we  designate  those  princi- 
ples in  human  nature  which  make  man  a  religious  being,  and 
which  authorize  him  to  yield  with  cordial  and  confiding 
trust  to  the  claims  of  the  theistic  hypothesis.  Here,  as  else- 
where, our  criterion  of  certitude  must  be  found  in  the_cpn- 
stitution  of  our  own  minds.  The  more  full  development  of 
these  principles  will  be  found  in  subsequent  parts  of  the  work. 
Here  we  merely  indicate  them. 

I.  First  in  importance,  perhaps,  is  conscience,  or  the  moral 
sense  by  which  we  recognize  our  obligations  as  moral  and 


RELIGION  FOUNDED    IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  i-i 

accountable  beings,  and  reach  the  conviction  or  apprehension 
that  our  accountabiHty  extends  beyond  this  hfe,  and  up  to  a 
Power  higher  and  hoHer  than  any  on  earth.  This  principle 
of  our  nature  brings  with  it  the  consciousness  that  we  are 
persons,  not  things;  and,  taken  in  connection  with  the  fact 
that  rewards  and  punishments  are  not  dispensed  in  this  world 
precisely  according  to  men's  deserts,  it  points  most  signifi- 
cantly to  a  Righteous  Judge  and  a  Retributory  Life  in  another 
world.  The  evidence  which  this  principle  supplies,  in  respect 
to  God,  Immortality,  and  Retribution,  is  dwelt  upon  at  length 
in  the  third  Part. 

2.  Another  principle  in  our  nature,  which  points  in  the 
same  direction,  is  the  instinctive  disposition  to  tvorship  and  rev- 
erence. The  following  fact  is  stated  on  the  authority  and  in 
the  words  of  M.  Villemain,  one  of  the  most  eminent  scholars  of 
France.  It  occurs  in  an  address  before  the  French  Academy: 
"  We  have  read,  some  years  since,  the  psychological  confes- 
sion of  a  writer  (M.  Santervis)  whose  father  subjected  him  to 
the  trial  advised  by  Rousseau.  Left  alone  by  the  death  of  a 
tenderly  beloved  wife,  this  father,  a  learned  and  contemplative 
man,  carried  his  son  at  an  early  age  into  the  country,  and 
there,  allowing  him  no  communication  with  any  one,  he  cul- 
tivated the  understanding  of  the  child  by  the  sight  of  natural 
objects  placed  about  him,  and  by  the  study  of  languages 
almost  without  books  ;  at  the  same  time  keeping  away  from 
him  any  idea  of  God.  But  his  spirit  found  what  had  been 
refused.  The  sun  which  he  saw  rise  every  morning  appeared 
to  him  the  All-powerful  Benefactor  of  which  he  felt  the  need. 
He  soon  formed  the  habit  of  going  at  sunrise  into  the  garden 
to  render  homage  to  this  God  which  he  had  made  for  himself. 
His  father  surprised  him  one  day,  and  showed  him  his  error, 
by  teaching  him  that  all  the  fixed  stars  are  so  many  suns 
scattered  over  space.  But  such  was  the  discontent  and  sor- 
row of  the  child,  thus  deprived  of  his  worship,  that  the  fither 
was  subdued,  and  finished  by  confessing  to  him  that  there 


54 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


was   indeed   a    God,  who  was   the    Creator  of  heaven   and 
earth." 

Facts  of  a  kindred  nature  are  so  numerous,  that  we  can 
hardly  fail  to  recognize  a  disposition  to  worship  and  religious 
adoration  as  an  original  element  in  the  constitution  of  the 
human  soul,  and  it  is  so  ranked  by  many  writers  on  Psy- 
chology. Taken  by  itself,  this  principle  does  not  necessarily 
indicate  the  Unity  or  Spirituality  of  God.  For  this  purpose 
we  need  consciousness  and  the  moral  sense,  and  especially 
the  two  primordial  conceptions  of  the  human  reason  which 
follow. 

3.  One  of  these,  the  idea  of  Causation,  seems  to  arise  spon- 
taneously in  the  mind  at  the  sight  of  objects  and  events. 
That  these  must  have  had  a  Cause  adequate  to  produce  them, 
that  the  nature  of  the  causemust  correspond  to  that  of  the  effect, 
and  that  all  derived  or  dependent  causes  necessitate  the  con- 
ception of  an  original  independent  cause  seem  to  be  pri- 
mary beliefs,  which  spring  from  the  very  constitution  of  the 
mind.  They  seem,  taken  in  connection  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  power  in  ourselves,  to  involve  ultimately  the  notion 
of  a  Self-existent  Eternal  First  Cause,  All-wise  and  All-pow- 
erful. To  develop  this  notion,  from  the  simple  fact  of  exist- 
ence, and  to  establish  its  objective  validity,  has  been  the 
object  of  many  Metaphysicians,  of  whom,  perhaps,  none  has 
achieved  a  more  brilliant  reputation,  in  this  department  of 
Theology,  than  Dr.  Samuel  Clarke.*  Use  is  made  of  this 
principle  in  the  next  chajDtcr,  and  in  the  second  and  third 
Parts. 

4.  Another  law  of  thought  is  fruitful  of  religious  impressions. 
It  is  that  which  constrains  us  \.o  find  evidence  of  ati  intelligent 
purpose  in  the  relation  of  means  and  ends.  This  is  commonly 
called  the  doctrine  of  Final  Causes,  and  involves  the  concep- 
tion of  an  Intelligence  competent  to  devise  and  effect  the 


*  Demonstration  of  the  Being  and  Attributes  of  God. 


RELIGION  FOUNDED   IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  55 

manifold  adjustments  and  adaptations  which  we  find  through- 
out the  material  and  moral  worlds.  Taken  in  connection 
with  our  own  conscious  personality,  and  the  free  intelligence 
with  which,  in  our  contracted  sphere,  we  arrange  correspond- 
ing adjustments,  this  principle  authorizes  and  demands  the 
recognition  of  a  Personal  Creator.  It  will  be  found,  combined 
with  the  preceding  principle,  in  the  next  chapter,  entitled 
Illustrations,  and  it  will  recur  constantly  throughout  this 
work.  Aristotle*  boasts  of  having  been  the  first  to  speculate 
distinctly  of  final  causes;  but  the  argument  was  employed. with 
great  force  and  felicity,  by  Socrates,  before  his  time,  and  it 
has  constantly  been  appealed  to  since,  as  affording  a  basis  for 
Natural  Theology,  more  impressive  and  more  generally  in- 
telligible than  almost  any  other.  In  near  relation  with  the 
doctrine  of  Final  Causes  is  that  of  the  Unity  of  Composition, 
or  of  Fundamental  Types  in  the  Organic  World,  according  to 
which  all  Plants  and  Animals  are  constructed.  It  is  a  modern 
discovery,  and,  as  instruments  of  investigation  in  Natural 
Science,  the  two  are  now  admitted  to  be  of  co-ordinate  value 
and  importance.  The  one  is  termed  the  teleological,  the  other, 
the  morphological  method.  "  The  teleological  proof,"  says 
Nitzsch,t  "  is  specially  important  in  our  day,  when  God 
is  denied  in  his  Eternal  personality,  because  it  does  not  as- 
sume God's  existence  without  conceiving  Him  to  be  self- 
conscious  and  omniscient."  "  A  reciprocal  relation,"  says 
Fichte,!  "  between  end  and  the  means  cannot  exist  apart  from 
a  consciousness  imagining  and  realizing  this  relation.  Now, 
such  relation  to  an  end  is  universally  found  in  the  actual 
world ;  thus  the  Absolute,  in  the  realization  of  the  world, 
must  be  an  absolute  that  imagines  the  world  and  consciously 
penetrates  it." 

5.  In  closing  this  enumeration  of  principles,  which  go  to 


*  Met.  I.  vii.  p.  88.  f  Christian  Doctrine,  p.  149. 

%  Quoted  by  Nitzsch. 


56 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


constitute  the  religious  soul  in  man,  we  ought  not  to  omit 
certain  fundamental  conceptions  of  the  intuitive  reason  in 
which  the  idea  of  God  is  held  to  be  contained  implicitly. 
By  the  argument  a  priori,  these  fundamental  conceptions  are 
analyzed,  and  the  theistic  notions  are  sought  to  be  evolved 
from  them.  Such  are  the  notions  of  cause  and  effect,  already 
noticed,  of  perfect  and  imperfect,  of  absolute  and  relative,  of 
necessary  and  contingent,  original  and  unoriginal,  infinite  and 
finite.  Clarke's  argument,  already  referred  to,  though  not 
purely  a  priori,  is  so  to  a  very  considerable  extent.  The  argu- 
ment of  St.  Anselm,  for  the  existence  of  God,  as  given  origi- 
nally by  him,  and  reproduced,  with  some  modification,  by  Des 
Cartes,  is  another  example.  The  notion  of  an  infinitely  perfect 
Being  was  assumed,  either  as  intuitive  or  as  necessarily  con- 
tained, in  our  conception  of  the  Perfect  and  Infinite ;  and 
since  such  an  idea  in  the  soul  could  be  deduced  from  no- 
thing finite,  its  existence  was  claimed  as  an  all-sufficient 
guarantee  of  the  existence  of  its  corresponding  object. 

The  following  may  be  taken  as  a  specimen  of  the  same 
kind  of  reasoning  {a  priori) :  "  In  respect  (for  instance)  to  that 
expcrimcntum  crncis,  the  idea  of  a  Personal  God,  it  seems  to 
me  it  is  implicitly  contained  in  the  ideas  of  finite  and  infinite, 
unoriginal  and  original  (necessary  ideas), — for  infinite  what? — 
original  what?  Answer — Being,  Existence, — of  which  spirit- 
ual being  or  Personality  is  not  only  the  highest  form,  but  the 
only  form  which  is  the  infinite  o^  our  finite,  the  original  of  our 
unoriginal.  In  other  .words,  if  a  conscious  being  necessarily 
knows  itself  as  the  finite  of  an  infinite,  the  unoriginal  of  an 
original,  it  is  a  spiritual  moral  conscious  infinite  or  original, 
which  is  the  opposite  pole  of  the  conception.  For  what  is  it 
that  I  am  conscious  is  bounded  by  myself?  and  if  it  be  true 
that  the  bounded  necessarily  implies  the  unbounded,  then  it 
is  a  bounded  self-implying  an  unbounded  self  If  any  one 
thinks  differently  of  the  nature  of  the  unbounded,  he  is  uncon- 
sciously transferring  the  conception  of  the  finite  and  infinite, 


RELIGION  FOUNDED   IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  cj 

which  belong  to  sense,  to  the  same  conceptions  belonging  to 
the  spirit.  Suppose  a  spirit,  with  no  experience  of  external 
or  material  nature,  or  having  lost  them,  but  in  the  full  pos- 
session of  intellectual  and  moral  truths,  and  the  corresponding 
emotions,  that  being  could  not  (as  now)  help  running  out  of 
itself  into  the  boundless,  but  of  that  boundless  it  could  have 
no  conception  but  as  an  intensely  intellectual  and  moral  some- 
what, i.e.  a  Person."* 

It  will  be  found  that  this  kind  of  reasoning  is  but  sparingly- 
used  in  this  volume,  not  because  we  think  it  of  no  value,  for, 
in  dealing  with  metaphysical  skeptics,  it  may  be  equally  neces- 
sary and  effective.  But  it  is  liable  to  be  overvalued  by  those 
who  are  most  skillful  in  using  it,  and,  being  pressed  too  far,  it 
often  provokes  unmerited  resistance  and  depreciation  from 
others.  Butler's  correspondence  with  Clarkef  would  seem 
to  show  that,  to  some  extent,  this  was  the  effect  on  his  mind 
of  the  latter's  admirable  reasoning,  and  that  he  sympathized 
with  another  of  Clarke's  friends  (Whiston)  in  preferring  a 
different  line  of  argument.  In  his  memoirs  of  Dr.  Clarke, 
Whiston  says,  "  When  he  brought  me  his  book,  I  was  in  my 
garden,  over  against  St.  Peter's  College,  where  I  then  lived. 
Now,  I  perceived  that  in  these  sermons  he  had  dealt  a  great 
deal  in  abstract  and  metaphysic  reasoning.  I  therefore  asked 
him  how  he  ventured  into  such  subtleties,  which  I  never 
durst  meddle  with.  And  showing  him  a  nettle,  or  the  like 
contemptible  weed,  in  my  garden,  I  told  him  'that  weed  con- 
tained better  arguments  for  the  Being  and  attributes  of  God 
than  all  his  Metaphysics.'  Mr.  Clarke  confessed  it  to  be  so; 
but  alleged  for  himself  that,  since  such  philosophers  as 
Hobbes  and  Spinoza  had  made  use  of  those  kind  of  sub- 
tleties against,  he  thought  proper  to  show  that  the  like  way 
of  reasoning  might  be  made  better  use  of  on  the  side  of  religion, 
which  reason  or  excuse  I  allowed  not  to  be  inconsiderable." 


*  Extract  from  a  private  letter. 

f  See  Appendix  to  the  Demonstration. 


58 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


While  we  shall  appeal  mainly  to  Evidence  a  postcrion,  we 
shall  not  confine  ourselves  to  any  one  kind  of  it.  In  doing 
so,  we  should  endanger  the  fullness  and  clearness  of  the  im- 
pression which  the  three  great  Witnesses  for  God  and  Re- 
ligion are  calculated  to  make.  He,  for  instance,  who  reasons 
only  from  Final  Causes,  and  does  it  in  the  usual  manner, 
proves  thereby  that  there  is  a  Designer;  but  he  does  not 
always,  with  sufficient  precision,  establish  the  fact  that  that  De- 
signer has  free  Personality  and  Infinite  perfection.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  who  reasons  only  from  his  notions  of  the  absolute, 
or  who  rises  from  finite  and  contingent  being  or  substance 
to  that  which  is  Infinite  and  Eternal,  is  in  danger  of  Pan- 
theistic views.  With  these  methods,  therefore,  should  be 
combined  those  which  are  founded  in  our  conscious  person- 
ality and  our  moral  sentiments.  They  furnish  us,  distinctly, 
with  the  notion  of  a  Divine  Personality,  all-comprehending  in 
Power,  Wisdom,  and  Holiness;  and  carrying  that  notion  with 
us  to  the  study  of  Nature  and  of  Man,  we  find  in  all  their 
phenomena  and  laws  so  many  attestations  of  its  validity. 

The  foundation  of  all  Philosophical  Theology  must  be  laid 
in  a  Searching  Psychology,  which  establishes  the  certainty 
and  value  of  our  primary  theistic  conceptions.  These  being 
settled,  we  are  prepared  for  the  question  as  to  the  actual  objec- 
tive existence  of  the  proper  correspondents  of  these  ideas; 
and  the  proof  of  that  objective  existence  we  must  find  in  the 
accordance  which  obtains  between  the  ideas,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  all  the  facts  and  indications,  on  the  other,  which  are  sup- 
plied by  our  own  nature,  by  the  external  world,  and  by  all 
experience.  To  maintain  that  such  ideas,  so  guaranteed, 
have  only  a  subjective  validity,  and  afford  no  vouchers  for  any 
objective  truth,  is  to  give  up  all  hope  of  knowledge,  and  sur- 
render ourselves  to  a  most  dismal  as  well  as  barren  incer- 
titude. They  who  do  it,  under  the  influence  of  high  but 
bewildering  speculation,  constantly  forget  that  the  principle  of 
demonstration  is,  from  its  very  nature,  indemonstrable,  and 


RELIGION  FOUNDED  IN  HUMAN  NATURE.  cg 

that  the  subjective  necessity  of  believing  is,  of  itself,  a  sufficient 
foundation  for  the  objective  certainty  of  Science.  Forgetting 
this,  they  condemn  themselves  to  an  interminable  round  of 
questions,  and  confessing  at  last  the  utter  impotence  of  the 
speculative  reason,  they  renounce  all  faith  and  all  knowledge; 
or,  like  Kant,  they  save  their  convictions  at  the  expense  of 
their  logic,  and  take  refuge  in  the  categorical  imperatives 
of  the  Practical  Reason. 

We  ought  not  to  conclude  without  reminding  the  reader  that, 
in  this  chapter,  we  do  not  undertake  to  exhibit  the  process 
which  minds  actually  take  in  reaching  religious  convictions. 
Our  only  object  has  been  to  show  that  there  is  a  valid  founda- 
tion for  those  convictions  in  the  constitution  of  human  nature. 
The  origin  of  religious  faith  is  one  thing;  its  logical  validity 
and  the  manner  in  which  it  can  be  vindicated  to  the  reason  is 
anotlicr.  "  Faith  in  the  gods,"  says  Proclus,  a  follower  of 
Plato,  "is  anterior  to  the  act  of  cognition,  commanding  as- 
sent prior  to  all  reflection  or  reasoning."  To  believe  is  the 
fact  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  dialectic  and  demonstra- 
tion. Faith  is  the  first  dictate  of  the  soul, — the  condition 
precedent  of  all  action  and  all  thought.  Philosophy  is  the 
effort  to  make  these  instinctive  beliefs  reflective,  and  to  de- 
monstrate their  reasonableness.  This,  which  is  true  of  all 
knowledge,  is  pre-eminently  true  of  religious  knowledge,  and 
of  all  attempts  to  transform  it,  by  reflection,  into  a  philosophy. 
Such  attempts,  like  all  the  attempts  of  speculative  philosophy 
in  other  departments  of  thought,  may  as  yet  be  mere  tentatives, 
with  but  a  limited  measure  of  authority;  and  yet  the  great 
fundamental  truths,  with  which  they  deal,  may  stand  un- 
shaken, and  be  clothed  with  all  the  majesty  of  a  Divine 
sanction. 


CHAPTER   III. 
ILL  USTRA  TIONS. 

HAVING  indicated  the  line  of  discussion  which  will  be 
pursued  in  this  work,  we  present  a  few  Illustrations 
derived,  some  of  them,  from  Nature,  others  from  Man,  and 
founded,  mainly,  on  the  third  and  fourth  Principles  indicated 
in  Chapter  II.  In  the  second  and  third  Parts,  the  religious 
instruction,  which  can  be  derived  from  these  two  sources, 
will  be  presented  separately,  and  with  reference  to  the  leading 
divisions  in  Natural  and  Mental  Sciences.  In  this  chapter, 
physical,  physiological,  and  psycholgical  examples  are  brought 
together,  in  order  to  show  how  they  mutually  strengthen  one 
another.  They  will  be  embraced  under  two  general  heads, 
corresponding  to  the  two  leading  titles,  under  which  all  the 
subjects  of  human  inquiry  in  the  phenomenal  world  may  be 
arranged — i.  Objects  that  exist,  and  ii.  Events  that  take  place. 

Under  the  first,  we  introduce  illustrations  not  usually  em- 
ployed in  books  on  Natural  Religion.  Under  the  second,  we 
shall  insist,  especially,  on  the  moral  responsibility  under  which 
man  is  placed  by  natural  laws,  and  the  light  which  those  laws 
thus  cast  on  the  moral  character  of  God. 

SECTION  I. 

OBJECTS   CONSIDERED   AS   RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS. 

In  considering  the  religious  instruction  to  be  derived  from 
objects  that  exist,  whether  material  or  immaterial,  observe — 

I.  Their  constancy,  or,  in  other  words,  remark  that  they 
are  unchangeable  in  their  properties;  whether  substances  are 
(60) 


OBJECTS  CONSIDERED   AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS.      5i 

simple  or  compounded,  endowed  or  unendowed  with  life, — 
whether  inspected  here  or  in  the  remotest  parts  of  the  earth, 
to-day  or  three  thousand  years  ago,  they  are  found  identical. 
Everywhere  on  the  globe,  pure  water  has  the  same  trans- 
parency, the  same  taste,  the  same  power  of  quenching  thirst 
and  dissolving  solids;  is  composed  of  the  same  chemical  con- 
stituents united  in  the  same  proportions,  and  is  expanded 
into  vapor  or  hardened  into  ice  at  the  same  temperature.  So, 
wherever  vv'e  meet  opium,  we  find  not  only  its  soporific  prop- 
erty, but,  united  with  this,  the  same  odor,  the  same  taste, 
the  same  color,  the  same  specific  gravity,  the  same  relation  to 
other  substances.  In  like  manner,  wherever  among  men  we 
meet  sensations,  emotions,  conceptions,  they  are  essentially 
the  same.  The  gratitude,  the  affection  for  offspring,  the  love 
of  friends  or  country,  that  swells  our  breast  now,  is  like  that 
which  warms  the  remotest  heart  on  the  globe,  which  ani- 
mated the  earliest  heirs  of  mortality.  It  is  so  throughout 
nature.  It  is  a  constancy  which  defies  alike  time,  the  ele- 
ments, man.  A  substance,  by  being  incorporated  with  other 
substances,  may  disappear  for  a  time ;  if  a  compound,  its 
constituents  may  be  separated  and  may  enter  into  new  com- 
binations ;  but  as  often  as  each  reappears,  in  the  countless 
changes  ever  going  on,  so  often  is  it  found  clothed  in  the 
same  identical  qualities. 

Now,  consider  this  fact,  in  itself,  and  also  in  its  adaptation 
to  our  mental  structure  and  our  wants.  How  wonderful  that, 
amidst  all  the  decay  and  dissolution  to  which  everything  in 
nature  is  subject,  we  should  thus  find  substances,  formed  in 
the  same  manner  and  with  the  same  qualities,  perpetually 
reproduced!  Does  it  look  like  chance?  And,  then,  how 
precisely,  in  this  respect,  is  the  world  without  preadjusted  to 
the  world  within!  The  human  mind  is  so  constituted  that  it 
seems  intuitively  to  expect  that  wherever  certain  of  the  quali- 
ties which  belong  to  a  substance  appear,  the  rest  Avill  be 
found.     It  is  a  characteristic  necessary,  too,  to  enable  us  to 


62  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

recognize  objects  and  to  use  them.  But  for  it  we  could  not 
detect  poisons  till  we  had  suffered  from  their  malignant  in- 
fluence. Substances,  though  fitted  to-day  for  useful  purposes, 
might,  if  subject  to  frequent  change,  become  to-morrow  dele- 
terious. The  world  would  be  a  chaos,  experience  would 
cease  to  be  a  guide  in  action,  and  we  should  wander  abroad 
strangers  in  our  very  homes.  Was  it  not  kind  intelligent 
foresight  that  averted  such  evils? 

2.  Consider  objects,  again,  in  regard  to  their  symmetry. 
Water  settles  in  drops :  those  drops  are  found,  on  examina- 
tion, to  be  spherical.  Vapor  congeals  in  the  air,  and  falls  as 
snow:  each  snowflake  is  a  crystal,  or  an  assemblage  of 
crystals,  symmetrical  in  shape.  The  salt  precipitated  or  the 
metal  fused  by  the  chemist  tends  strongly,  in  all  cases,  to 
crystallize,  i.e.  take  a  regular  form.  Five-sixths,  and  per- 
haps we  might  say  nine-tenths,  of  all  the  minerals  which  the 
naturalist  gathers  into  his  cabinet  are  found,  when  carefully 
examined,  to  be  crystalline.  And  when  we  pass  into  those 
domains  of  nature  where  life  holds  sway  and  builds  up  its 
mysterious  fabrics,  there  this  all-prevailing  symmetry  is  still 
more  marked.  "The  bodies  of  animals,  for  example,  consist  of 
two  equal  and  similar  sets  of  members,  the  right  and  the  left 
side."  It  is  the  same  with  the  leaves  of  trees.  Flowers,  again, 
consist  of  equal  sets  of  organs,  similarly  and  regularly  disposed. 
As,  for  instance,  the  Iris  has  three  straight  petals  and  three  re- 
flexed  ones,  alternately  disposed ;  the  Rose  has  five  equal 
similar  sepals  of  the  calyx,  alternate  with  as  many  petals  of 
the  corolla.*  Even  irregular  flowers,  as  they  are  called,  are 
irregular  merely  because  parts  have  grown  together  which, 
if  separate,  would  render  the  flower  symmetrical.  And  when 
we  ascend  to  animals,  including  man,  we  find  that  the  number 
tzvo,  which  forms  the  basis  of  their  corporeal  symmetry,  as 
three  and  five  form  the  basis  of  symmetry  in  vegetables,  is  to 


*  Whewell's  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences. 


OBJECTS  CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS,      g^ 

be  observed  also  in  their  instincts  and  habits.  To  adopt  the 
language  of  Kirby,  "  If  we  begin  at  the  bottom  of  the  scale, 
and  ascend  up  to  man,  we  shall  find  two  descriptions  in  al- 
most every  class  and  even  tribe  of  animals :  one  ferocious  in 
their  aspect,  often  rapid  in  their  motions,  predacious  in  their 
habits,  preying  upon  their  fellows,  and  living  upon  rapine  and 
bloodshed;  while  the  other  is  quiet  and  harmless,  making  no 
attacks,  shedding  no  blood,  and  subsisting  mostly  on  a  vege- 
table diet."  One  other  fact,  most  worthy  of  notice,  as  indicat- 
ing how  universal  and  marked  is  this  tendency  to  symmetry 
in  natural  objects,  is  the  existence  of  abortive  parts  in  plants 
and  animals,  which  are  yet  always  symmetrical, — parts  which 
in  some  species  exist  only  in  a  rudimentary  or  abortive  state, 
while  in  others  they  serve  some  important  office. 

Now,  to  what  are  we  to  ascribe  this  prevalence  throughout 
nature  of  a  principle  so  agreeable  to  the  eye,  and  so  gratifying 
to  the  taste  of  man?  We  cannot  answer  this  question  better 
than  by  quoting  the  language  of  a  great  Botanist.  Says 
De  Candolle,  when  speaking  generally  of  symmetry  as  in- 
dicative of  design,  and  more  specifically  of  abortive  organs 
thus  disposed  in  regular  order,  "If,  on  a  subject  so  grave 
and  elevated,  I  may  be  permitted  to  avail  myself  of  a  com- 
parison somewhat  mean  and  trivial,  I  may  perhaps  render 
my  views  on  this  subject  somewhat  better  understood.  I 
will  suppose  that  I  am  seated  at  a  splendid  banquet,  and  cer- 
tainly the  repast  which  nature  sets  before  us  may  well  merit 
this  appellation ;  I  endeavor  to  discover  what  evidence  can  be 
afforded  that  this  banquet  is  not  the  result  of  chance,  but  has 
been  due  to  the  will  of  an  intelligent  being.  No  doubt  I  shall 
remark  that  each  of  the  dishes  is,  in  itself,  well  prepared  (this 
is  the  argument  of  the  anatomist),  and  that  the  selection  of 
them  implies  a  reference  to  the  wants  of  the  individuals  who 
partake  of  it.  This  is  the  reasoning  of  the  physiologist.  But 
may  I  not  likewise  observe  that  the  dishes  that  constitute 
this  repast  are  arranged  in  a  certain  symmetrical  order,  such  as 


64  THE   THREE    WITNESSES. 

is  agreeable  to  the  eye  and  plainly  announces  design  and 
volition?  Now  if,  on  examining  the  above  arrangement,  I 
should  find  certain  dishes  repeated,  as,  for  instance,  in  double 
rows,  for  no  other  apparent  reason  than  that  one  might,  in  a 
manner,  correspond  with  the  other;  or  observe  that  the  places 
which  they  should  occupy  were  filled  with  imitations  of  the 
real  dishes,  which  seem  of  no  use  with  reference  to  the  ob- 
ject of  the  repast,  ought  I  on  that  account  to  reject  the  idea 
of  design?  So  far  from  this,  I  might  infer  from  the  very  cir- 
cumstances stated,  an  attention  to  symmetrical  arrangement, 
and  consequently  the  operation  of  intelligence. 

Now,  this  is  exactly  what  happens  on  the  great  scale  in 
Nature.  Considerations  derived  from  the  symmetry  of  parts 
correct,  in  great  measure,  what  is  deficient  in  the  theory  of 
final  causes,  and  tend  not  only  to  resolve  many  difficulties 
which  present  themselves  in  the  general  economy  of  nature, 
but  even  to  transform  them  into  evidences  of  the  existence 
of  this  ver>'  order."* 

3.  Look  at  objects,  again,  in  their  rcscviblanccs  and  affinities. 
Everything  in  nature  has  that  which  gives  it  individuality  and 
makes  it  different  from  every  other  thing.  But  amidst  this  end- 
less diversity  there  is,  at  the  same  time,  a  pervading  corre- 
spondence and  uniformity.  Individuals  arc  found,  when  com- 
pared, to  have  more  or  less  in  common,  and  can  therefore 
be  conceived  and  spoken  of  as  a  group,  having  a  common 
designation  or  name.  Different  groups,  again,  have  marks 
and  attributes  in  common ;  and  in  this  way  we  ascend  from 
species  to  genus,  from  genus  to  order,  from  order  to  class,  from 
class  to  division  or  kingdom.  So  pervading  is  this  unity,  so 
numerous  the  affinities  that  bind  objects  together,  that  the 
very  same  individuals  can  be  classified  in  different  ways,  ac- 
cording as  we  start  from  one  or  another  character  as  the 
basis  of  the  system.     As  the  books  in  a  library  may  be  ar- 

*  Quoted  in  Powell's  Natural  and  Divine  Truth. 


OBJECTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS.      65 

ranged  according  to  the  subjects  of  which  they  treat,  the 
languages  in  which  they  are  written,  their  size  or  style  of 
binding,  so  plants  may  be  classified  or  arranged  by  assuming, 
with  Linnaeus,  that  the  organs  of  reproduction  (pistils  and 
stamens)  form  the  proper  basis,  or  by  holding,  with  Jussieu, 
that  the  basis  of  a  more  just  and  natural  method  may  be  found 
in  more  general  resemblances  and  in  a  greater  number  of 
affinities.  And  it  is  striking  proof  how  this  community  of 
attributes  prevails  in  the  vegetable  world,  that,  pursuing 
Jussieu's  method,  we  can  arrange  objects,  independently, 
with  reference  either  to  external  characters,  to  habits,  to 
properties,  to  organization,  or  to  functions ;  and  whichever 
of  these  we  follow,  the  resulting  classification  will  be  the 
sarrie.  So  that  Mr.  Whewell,  in  his  Philosophy  of  the  In- 
ductive Sciences,  makes  it  a  test  of  all  natural  systems  of 
classification,  "that  an  arrangement,  obtained  from  one  set 
of  characters,  shall  coincide  with  an  arrangement  obtained 
from  another  set,"* 

Indeed,  what  is  human  language,  with  its  multitude  of 
common  names,  its  generic  Verbs,  Adverbs,  Adjectives,  and 
the  like,  but  a  transcript  of  the  efforts  which  men  have  made 
at  tracing  these  affinities  among  all  the  objects  of  human 
thought?  With  the  progress  of  science,  new  ones  are  con- 
stantly being  discovered.  They  are  found  to  pervade  all 
space,  to  extend  through  all  time,  to  comprehend  and  link 
together  all  orders  of  beings  and  all  varieties  of  substances. 
The  planets  of  the  solar  system,  for  example,  are  all  alike  in 
figure,  and  in  having  motion,  as  well  around  their  axes  as 
through  space.  Fixed  stars,  so  distant  that  light  from  the 
nearest  of  them,  though  traveling  with  almost  inconceivable 
velocity,  and  though  it  left  its  bright  fountain  hundreds  of 
years  ago,  would  not  yet  have  reached  us, — these  stars  are 
like  our  Sun,  in  the  light  they  emit,  in  the  slight  obscurations 

*  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  vol.  i.  p.  521. 

5 


66  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

they  experience,  in  the  globular  form  they  take,  and  some 
of  them,  at  least,  in  the  gravitation  they  evince.  Geology 
conducts  us  into  chambers,  where  the  dead  of  former  worlds 
repose  in  their  marble  cerements,  and  there  we  find  the  same 
organs,  the  same  functions,  the  same  forms,  often,  as  in  living 
animals.  Human  history  carries  us  back  to  the  infancy  of 
our  own  race,  and  shows  us,  in  the  slumbering  tenants  of  an 
Egyptian  tomb,  or  in  the  sculptured  figures  on  an  Egyptian 
pyramid,  that  men  and  animals  were  formed  thousands  of 
years  ago  as  they  are  formed  now. 

Again,  wherever  animals  are  of  the  same  species,  they  have 
the  same  instincts.  Wherever  men  have  been  found,  from  the 
day  that  their  earthly  pilgrimage  began,  there,  amid  unend- 
ing diversities  of  a  minor  kind,  we  find  the  same  physical 
structure,  the  same  mental  faculties,  the  same  moral  senti- 
ments. The  similitude  extends  across  the  gulf  that  divides 
sensations  even  the  most  unlike,  just  as  it  extends  across  the 
yet  deeper  and  wider  gulf  that  separates  the  world  of  life  and 
intelligence  from  the  inanimate  world.  Who,  for  example, 
would  expect  to  find  any  affinity  between  light  and  sound? 
And  yet — i,  they  are  reflected  from  hard  surfaces  according 
to  the  same  law;  2,  the  insensibility  of  a  certain  place,  in  the 
retina  of  the  eye,  to  light,  has  its  correspondent  in  a  like  in- 
sensibility, which  characterizes  every  human  ear  to  a  certain 
pitch  of  sound;  3,  if  the  blending  of  two  strong  lights  can 
produce  apparent  darkness,  so  the  simultaneous  vibration  of 
two  musical  strings  can  produce  intervals  of  absolute  silence; 
4,  in  like  manner,  the  sensation  of  one  bright  color,  seen  in 
an  object,  is  followed,  on  turning  the  eye  to  a  white  surface, 
by  the  sensation  of  its  complemcntal  color,  just  as  the  sound- 
ing of  a  given  note  on  an  instrument  is  instantly  followed 
by  those  which  form  a  chord,  and  are  hence  called  the  har- 
monics. 

Consider  also  the  remarkable  affinity  which  both  light  and 
sound  have  for  the  same  or  similar  emotions  of  the  mind,  and 


OBJECTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS.      Qy 

the  new  ties  of  affinity  that  are  thus  estabHshed  between  them. 
Instinctively  in  all  animals,  but  especially  in  man,  the  voice 
attunes  itself  to  the  state  of  the  mind,  the  frame  of  the  feel- 
ings. Joy  always  seeks  utterance  through  the  major  key, 
sadness  through  the  minor.  Thus  the  cuckoo,  at  the  open- 
ing of  spring,  when  elate  with  health,  gives  forth  her  gladness 
in  the  major  third;  but  in  autumn,  when  long  incubation  has  ex- 
hausted her  strength,  her  notes  decline  unconsciously  into  the 
minor.  It  is  to  this  instinctive  affinity  between  certain  sounds 
and  certain  feelings  of  the  mind,  that  we  owe  the  mighty 
sway  which  music  has  over  the  soul.  The  musician  wields 
our  passions  and  sentiments,  just  in  proportion  as  he  copies 
these  natural  utterances  of  the  heart  when  moved  to  hope  or 
fear,  to  joy  or  sorrow,  utterances  which  are  no  sooner  heard 
than  they  wake  a  corresponding  chord  in  the  hearer's  mind. 

But  sometimes,  in  the  hands  of  a  great  master,  this  noble 
art  takes  a  yet  bolder  flight.  She  assails  the  heart  not  merely 
by  representing  the  emotions  that  correspond  to  certain 
sounds,  but  by  representing  those  that  are  awakened  by  cer- 
tain colors;  in  other  words,  she  employs  sounds  to  imitate 
light  and  produce  its  effects  on  the  mind.  Thus,  for  instance, 
in  the  Creation  of  Haydn,  with  what  matchless  skill  has  the 
composer  availed  himself  of  this  affinity  between  light  and 
sound!  "The  angel  begins  to  relate  the  great  work;  we  soon 
come  to  the  passage  which  describes  the  creation  of  Light : 
And  God  said.  Let  there  be  light.  Before  this  fiat  of  the  Cre- 
ator, the  musician  has  gradually  diminished  the  chords;  he 
introduces  the  unison  and  the  piano  still  growing  softer  as 
the  suspended  cadence  approaches  ;  at  last  this  cadence  bursts 
forth,  in  the  most  sonorous  manner,  at  the  words — And  there 
was  light.  This  burst  of  the  whole  orchestra,  on  the  re- 
sounding key  of  C,  accompanied  with  all  the  harmony  pos- 
sible, and  prepared  by  the  gradual  fading  of  the  sounds, 
actually  produces  upon  us,  at  the  first  representation,  the 
effect  of  a  thousand  torches  suddenly  flashing  light  into  a 


68  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

dark  cavern."*  And  again,  when  the  artist  describes  how 
the  Sun  appears  for  the  first  time,  "  in  all  the  pomp  of  the 
most  magnificent  spectacle  that  man's  eye  can  contemplate:" 
"At  the  commencement  of  this  symphony,  our  attention  is 
attracted  by  a  soft  streaming  note  from  the  violins,  which  is 
scarcely  discernible,  till  the  rays  of  sound  which  issue  from 
the  second  violin  diverge  into  the  chord  of  the  second,  to 
which  is  gradually  imparted  a  greater  fulness  of  color,  as  the 
violas  and  violoncellos  steal  in  with  expanding  harmony. 
At  the  fifth  bar,  the  oboes  begin  to  shed  their  mellow  lustre, 
while  the  flute  silvers  the  mounting  rays  of  the  violin.  As 
the  notes  continue  ascending  to  the  highest  point  of  bright- 
ness, the  orange,  the  scarlet,  the  purple  unite  in  the  increasing 
splendor,  and  the  glorious  orb  at  length  appears  retulgent 
with  all  the  brightest  beams  of  harmony."t 

Thus  it  is  that  we  have  affinities  throughout  nature.  The 
sap,  the  vessels,  the  leaves  of  plants,  seem  to  be  repeated  in 
the  blood,  the  arteries,  the  stomach  and  lungs  of  animals. 
The  instincts  and  intelligence  of  brutes  are  reproduced,  as  it 
were,  but  in  improved  form  and  with  the  addition  of  much 
more  exalted  powers,  in  man;  and  in  these  natures  of  ours, 
even  the  mighty  abyss  which  separates  matter  and  spirit, 
those  extremes  of  existence;  that,  on  the  one  hand,  which  is 
inert,  solid,  extended  from  that  which  feels,  thinks,  and  wills, 
in  this,  our  human  nature,  even  that  broad  abyss  is  bridged 
over;  and  we  have  ethereal  spirits  not  only  dwelling  in  houses 
of  clay,  but  linked  to  them  by  mysterious  but  most  intimate 
ties,  so  that  matter  and  mind  have  literally  become  one. 

Here,  then,  is  a  great  fact, — the  similitude  which  prevails 
among  natural  objects,  whether  those  objects  be  material  or 
immaterial.  If  all  these  objects  be  the  work  of  one  mind  and 
one  creating  hand,  it  is  the  result  we  should  expect.     As 

*  Gardiner,  author  of  the  "  Music  of  Nature." 
•)■  Gardiner.     See  notes  to  Life  of  Haydn. 


OBJECTS   CONSIDERED   AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS.      gg 

every  specimen  of  man's  workmanship  bears  traces  of  the 
mind  that  designed  and  the  hand  that  executed,  and  as  in 
cases  where  one  mind  has  produced  different  works,  we  ex- 
pect to  find  them  all  pervaded  by  common  principles  and 
marked  by  common  characteristics ;  so,  if  there  be  one  great 
Intelligent  First  Cause,  of  whom  man's  soul  is  the  faint  and 
insignificant,  yet  real  transcript,  we  should  expect,  in  like 
manner,  that  wherever,  throughout  the  Universe,  that  Infinite 
and  Eternal  Spirit  expresses  himself  in  material  or  spiritual 
works,  there  would  be  traces  of  his  own  character  or  style, 
affinities  binding  together  objects  apparently  the  most  dis- 
similar. It  is  like  looking  upon  a  vast  army  dispersed  over 
an  encampment.  At  first  all  seems  confusion;  but,  as  we 
pass  along,  we  see  the  same  colors,  the  same  fashions,  reap- 
pearing in  dift'erent  dresses.  We  find  here  blue,  there  red, 
there  green  and  gray.  Similar  colors  in  dress  are  marked 
by  similar  styles  and  forms,  and  perhaps  by  similar  equip- 
ment in  every  respect.  In  different  parts  of  the  encampment, 
where  certain  characteristics  seem  most  prevalent,  there  pe- 
culiar ensigns  and  emblazonments  float  over  the  tents.  This 
repetition  of  the  same  dress  and  accoutrements  gives  us  that 
idea  which  we  express  by  the  word  uniform,  and,  in  our 
imagination,  we  can  marshal  this  great  host  into  separate 
groups,  each  designated  by  its  own  ensign,  costume,  and 
weapons.  Now,  we  cannot  help  ascribing  such  a  prevalence 
of  uniformity,  in  the  midst  of  variety,  to  an  Intelligent,  per- 
sonal will.  Did  we  witness  it  for  the  first  time,  the  inference 
would  still  be  clear  and  irresistible  that  such  order  could 
have  its  origin  in  nothing  but  design.  The  suggestion  that 
all  this  may  be  necessary  or  accidental,  we  at  once  reject  as 
we  do  the  supposition  that  it  has  been  or  might  have  been 
always  thus.  So  with  the  world  without  and  within.  Admit 
that  one  great  Being  has  framed  and  fashioned  all  that  we 
behold,  or  are  conscious  of,  and  then  these  graduated  resem- 
blances, this  recurrence,  under  circumstances  the  most  dis- 


70 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


similar,  and  at  periods  and  places  the  most  remote,  of  the 
same  properties,  the  same  organs,  the  same  functions,  is  all 
explained.  Suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  that  there  has  been 
at  work  no  intelligence,  no  design,  or  that  two  opposing 
Powers,  or  many  independent  ones,  have  been  at  work,  and  in 
that  case  these  resemblances,  analogies,  and  affinities  consti- 
tute nothing  less  than  a  vast  enigma. 

4.  Look  at  objects  again  in  respect  to  their  adaptations. 
Whether  we  consider  individuals,  classes,  or  kingdoms,  the 
adaptations  are  alike  wonderful  and  manifold.  In  the  Indi- 
vidual, part  is  adjusted  to  part, — each  to  its  neighbor  and  to 
every  other  part.  In  animals,  for  example,  the  mouth  is 
adapted  to  the  teeth,  the  teeth  to  the  stomach,  the  stomach 
to  the  viscera,  the  viscera  to  the  absorbents,  the  absorbents 
to  the  blood-vessels,  the  blood-vessels  to  the  lungs,  the  lungs 
to  the  muscles,  the  muscles  to  the  bones,  the  bones  to  each 
other,  and  to  the  size,  weight,  and  habits  of  the  animal.  And 
these  are  but  the  hundredth  or  rather  the  thousandth  part 
of  the  wonderful  adjustments  which  may  be  found  in  the 
body  of  the  smallest  animal;  adjustments,  too,  which  arc  in 
the  last  degree  perfect  and  exact.  "  If  the  viscera^'  says  Cu- 
vier,  "  are  so  organized  as  only  to  be  fitted  for  the  digestion 
of  recent  flesh,  the  jatvs  will  be  found  to  be  so  constructed 
as  to  fit  them  for  devouring  prey;  the  claivs,  for  seizing  and 
tearing  it  in  pieces ;  the  teeth,  for  cutting  and  dividing  the 
flesh ;  the  entire  system  of  the  limbs  or  organs  of  motion,  for 
pursuing  or  overtaking  it,  and  the  organs  of  sense,  for  discover- 
ing it  at  a  distance.  Nature  will  have  also  endowed  the  brain 
of  the  animal  with  instincts  sufficient  for  concealing  itself, 
and  for  laying  plans  to  catch  its  necessary  victims."  So  con- 
stant are  these  adaptations  that,  according  to  the  same  great 
naturalist,  "when  we  find  merely  the  extremity  of  a  well-pre- 
served bone  we  are  able,  by  a  careful  examination,  assisted 
by  analogy  and  exact  comparison,  to  determine  the  species 
to  which  it  belonged  as   certainly  as   if  we   had  the  entire 


OBJECTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS. 


71 


animal  before  us."  Cuvier  may  have  sometimes  pushed  this 
principle  too  far;  but  the  splendid  discoveries  in  fossil  anatomy, 
which  he  achieved  by  its  aid,  show  that  it  has  a  firm  founda- 
tion in  nature. 

If  we  pass  from  individuals  to  different  systems,  whether  of 
inorganic  or  of  living  organized  beings,  we  shall  be  still  more 
deeply  impressed  with  these  adaptations,  as  indicative  of  an 
intelligent  purpose,  since  they  exist  bettveen  tilings  naturally 
separated  and  independent  of  each  other,  and  the  adaptations 
cannot  be  imputed  therefore  to  an)^  natural  cause  or  opera- 
tion. Not  only  is  system  adapted  to  system,  but  each  system 
seems  to  be  preadjusted  with  reference  to  innumerable  other 
systems.  Not  to  multiply  illustrations,  let  us  take  a  single 
case.  Here  is  man, — observe  the  manner  in  which  relations 
have  been  established  between  him  and  the  whole  outward 
world,  animate  and  inanimate: — i.  His  vital  functions  need 
the  stimulus  of  oxygen,  and  we  accordingly  find  oxygen  dis- 
tributed around  the  globe,  and  properly  diluted  by  mixture 
with  another  gas.  He  has  lungs  adapted  to  inspiring  it, 
and  an  apparatus  through  which  it  is  brought  to  act  on  the 
blood.  2.  Man  sustains  life  by  food  as  well  as  air:  therefore 
food  has  been  provided;  hands  with  which  to  gather  it;  skill 
to  prepare  it ;  teeth  to  cut  it  if  it  be  flesh,  to  grind  it  if  it  be 
vegetable  substance ;  various  solvents  to  decompose  it,  and,  by 
a  mysterious  chemistry,  to  elaborate  from  it  the  proper  nutri- 
ment-absolvents to  carry  this  nutriment  to  the  arteries;  ar- 
teries to  convey  it  throughout  the  body;  other  vessels,  some 
to  seize  on  such  portions  of  it  as  are  fitted  for  bone,  some  on 
such  as  are  fitted  for  muscle,  and  to  convey  each  its  load 
to  the  proper  place;  while,  again,  another  distinct  class  of 
organs  are  employed  in  surrendering  and  carrying  to  the  out- 
lets of  the  system  all  material  which  has  become  useless  or 
noxious.  And  so  of  other  functions.  3.  Does  man  need 
light?  It  comes  darting  towards  him  with  fearful  haste  from 
all  quarters  of  space,  from  all  terrestrial  objects,  from   the 


72 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


Moon  and  planets,  from  the  Sun  and  fixed  stars.  And  when 
it  comes,  it  finds  an  organ  fitted  to  seize  upon  it  and  guide  its 
course,  to  converge  its  scattered  rays,  to  shut  out  its  too  in- 
tense cfTfulgcncc,  and  to  spread  a  surface  on  which,  in  an 
instant  of  time,  it  can  daguerreotype  a  mimic  panorama  of  all 
that  it  looks  upon, — a  panorama  that  outvies  the  utmost  stretch 
of  any  human  skill.  And  these  impressions  on  the  organs  of 
sense,  how  do  they  wake  up  in  the  depths  of  the  soul  corre- 
sponding perceptions,  remembrances,  emotions!  Or,  again, 
does  man  need — 4,  intelligence  from  others  framed  and 
organized  like  himself  or  even  from  inferior  animals?  Every 
gesture,  every  natural  sound,  has  its  significance.  The  hu- 
man face,  moreover,  has  been  written  all  over  with  signs  of 
what  is  at  work  within;  while  a  few  insignificant  bones  and 
membranes  have  been  so  adjusted  in  the  human  mouth  and 
throat  that  the  most  abstract  conceptions  of  man's  soul,  the 
most  tender  sentiments,  the  most  burning  thoughts,  can  be 
delivered  to  their  keeping,  and  straightway  they  are  carried 
h'terally  on  the  wings  of  the  wind  (for  vibratory  impulses  of 
the  air  are  the  invisible  but  faithful  messengers  that  bear 
them  to  their  destination);  they  are  thus  borne,  with  quick 
dispatch,  to  the  ear  and  heart  of  one,  or  to  the  ears  and  hearts 
of  thousands.  Who  can  trace  that  series  .of  mechanical  ad- 
justments by  which  thought,  conceived  in  the  secret  cham- 
bers of  the  soul,  is  made  vocal  and  audible?  Who  can  mark 
how  the  organs  of  utterance  are  adapted  to  the  air,  and  the 
air  again  to  the  organs  of  hearing,  without  feeling  that  here 
\s,  skill  amazing  and  Divine  ?  Paralyze  the  auditory  nerve  but 
slightly,  and  the  great  Babel  becomes  silent, — the  voice  even 
of  familiar  friendship  cannot  reach  and  stir  our  hearts !  Para- 
lyze the  optic  nerve,  and  all  the  radiance  that  is  poured  from 
the  Sun  even  at  noonday  fails  to  make  one  feature  visible  on 
the  face  of  those  we  most  fondly  love !  On  the  other  hand, 
project  into  the  blood-vessels  that  lie  along  or  around  this 
optic  or  auditory  nerve  more  than  their  due  share  of  blood, 


OBJECTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS.     73 

and  in  one  case  even  the  mellowest  light  of  day  becomes  a 
source  of  agony;  in  the  other,  sounds  which  usually  would 
be  music  to  the  ear  seem  now  to  torture  it.  And  is  it  without 
design  that  all  has  been  so  nicely  graduated?  Is  it  but  the 
work  of  some  blind,  unintelligent  necessity?  If  adjustments 
and  adaptations  like  these  do  not  indicate  creative  foresight, 
if  there  be  not  here  tokens  palpable  and  irrefragable  that  a 
Creator  as  wise  and  powerful  as  benevolent  has  been  at  work, 
then  let  the  skeptic  say  what  proof  he  would  have.  Let  him 
say  what  measure  of  evidence  will  be  sufficient  to  vanquish 
his  unbelief,  and  enable  him  to  see  in  the  world  around  him 
or  in  that  within  him  the  presence  of  a  God. 

Consider,  again,  how  precisely  adapted  to  the  ivants  and 
mental  powers  of  man  are  those  affinities  and  resemblances 
throughout  nature  which  form  the  basis  of  classification.  No 
man  can  know  all  objects  belonging  to  even  one  department 
of  knowledge,  such  as  Botany, — few  men  can  learn  many 
things.  Most  wise  and  benignant,  then,  is  the  provision  which 
has  made  one  object,  if  well  selected,  the  representative  of 
many,  and  has  even  connected  different  species  by  such  re- 
semblances and  analogies  that  the  knowledge  of  one  is  to  a 
great  extent  a  knowledge  of  hundreds.  Take  an  example 
from  the  vegetable  kingdom :  "  In  the  tribe  Cruciferce,  con- 
sisting of  about  nine  hundred  species,  the  study  of  the  com- 
mon radish,  the  mustard,  or  the  cress  will  give  the  student  a 
very  accurate  general  knowledge  of  the  remaining  eight  hun- 
dred and  ninety-nine,  because  they  are  all  close  modifications 
of  the  same  forms.  Again,  the  common  potato,  rightly 
understood,  represents  the  greater  part  of  Solanacece,  or  at  least 
of  some  hundred  species  belonging  to  that  tribe ;  while  the 
dead  nettle,  Lajuiuni  albu7n  or  rubrum,  stands  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  some  fifteen  hundred  or  sixteen  hundred  species 
called  Labiatce."  This  would  be  of  eminent  importance  and 
most  pointedly  indicative  of  Divine  contrivance  and  good- 
ness, though  its  advantages  extended  no  further;  but  when  it 


74 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


is  considered  that  the  properties  of  plants  accord  also  in  a  very 
remarkable  manner  with  their  structure,  and  that  those  which 
are  most  closely  approximated  in  a  classification  most  nearly 
resemble  one  another  in  their  sensible  properties,  qualities,  and 
uses,  the  benevolence  of  the  adaptation  becomes  doubly  im- 
pressive. For  example,  to  recur  to  the  first  illustration,  "any 
person  acquainted  with  Criiciferm  would  know  that  there  is 
no  instance  of  a  poisonous  or  deleterious  plant  in  that  tribe; 
a  point  of  great  importance  to  be  aware  of  On  the  contrary, 
he  would  know  that,  if  they  had  succulent  roots,  they  might 
be  employed  like  the  radish,  and  that  their  leaves  are  anti- 
scorbutic;  but  if  he  met  with  an  unknown  plant,  which,  from 
its  resemblance  to  the  potato,  he  knew  belonged  to  Soiajiacecs, 
he  would  at  once  reject  it  as  poisonous,  or  at  least  suspicious, 
unless  it  had  tubers  filled  with  faecula,  when  he  would  accept 
that  portion,  because  all  faecula  is  wholesome,  however  poi- 
sonous the  trees  or  plants  may  otherwise  be  that  produce 
it,  provided  the  deleterious  matter  that  lies  among  it  is  re- 
moved by  washing  or  volatilized  by  the  action  of  heat."*  In 
this  way  we  have,  in  the  classifications  of  Natural  History, 
regarded  by  many  as  empty  and  pedantic,  a  clc7v  to  the  prop- 
erties and  uses  of  bodies  ;  while  they  form  conclusive  evidence 
of  that  uniformity  throughout  nature  which  is  the  legitimate 
manifestation  of  one  presiding  Intelligence. 

5,  But  we  pass  to  the  last  point  to  be  considered  in  respect 
to  objects,  ivlictJicr  material  or  immaterial,  and  that  is  their 
CAUSE  or  ORIGIN.  We  have  already  considered  them  in  re- 
spect to  their  unchanging  and  unchangeable  properties,  their 
prevailing  symmetry,  their  manifold  reseviblauces  and  affinities, 
and  their  wonderful  adaptations  to  each  other  and  to  man's 
welfare,  and  we  have  seen  that  each  of  these  points  distinctly  to 
the  idea  of  a  Supreme  Cause,  All-wise,  powerful  and  good. 
But  the  same  conclusion  can  be  reached,  when  reasoning  from 

♦  Lindley. 


OBJECTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS.     75 

objects,  in  yet  another  way.  Whence  came  these  objects?  Are 
ihey  self-existent  ?  If  not,  whence  did  they  derive  their  origin  ? 
"  I  exist,"  to  borrow  the  language  of  another ;  "  I  am  not  the 
author  of  my  own  existence.  I  ask  only  these  two  proposi- 
tions to  convince  me  that  there  is  an  Eternal  Self-existent 
Being, — for  if  I  be  not  the  author  of  my  own  existence,  I  owe 
it  to  another  being ;  that  being  to  whom  I  owe  my  existence 
derives  his  from  himself,  or,  like  me,  he  owes  it  to  another. 
If  he  exists  of  himself,  behold  the  Eternal  Being  whom  I 
have  been  seeking, — if  he  derives  his  existence  from  another, 
I  reason  about  him  as  about  the  former.  Thus  I  ascend  till  I 
arrive  at  that  Being  who  exists  of  himself  and  who  hath  al- 
ways so  existed."*  If,  for  myself,  I  substitute  another  being 
or  substance  (animal,  vegetable,  or  mineral),  from  that  being 
we  shall  be  compelled  to  ascend,  in  like  manner,  till  we  reach 
the  same  Eternal  Self-subsisting  Cause ;  and  so  from  whatever 
part  of  the  wide  universe  our  reasonings  may  start,  they  all 
converge  towards  the  self-same  centre,  and  rest  at  last  in  Him, 
who  as  the  author  and  upholder  of  all  existence  must  be  as 
Infinite  in  power  as  he  is  eternal  in  duration.  And  such  a 
Being  must  be  a  Spirit.  We  cannot  conceive  of  a  Self-ex- 
istent Eternal  Being,  the  Creator  and  Ruler  of  all  worlds,  as 
incorporated  with  a  substance  inert,  extended,  solid,  gross- 
like matter.  There  is  a  sense,  indeed,  in  which,  adopting  the 
language,  though  not  the  notions,  of  Spinoza,  we  may  speak 
of  the  material  universe  as  the  body  of  the  Deity.  As  we  call 
those  portions  of  matter,  which  we  more  immediately  actuate 
and  direct,  our  bodies,  so  God  actuates  by  his  will  every  part 
of  the  universe.  He  obscures  the  Sun,  He  calms  the  winds, 
He  commands  the  sea.  But,  in  the  judgment  of  Spinoza,  the 
universe  constitutes  God,  the  essence  of  all  existence  is  his 
essence.  Whereas  the  Theist  holds  that  God  constituted  the 
universe,  that  it  is  pervaded  everywhere  by  his  presence  and 

*  Saurin. 


76 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


power,  being  entirely  dependent  on  Him,  while  He  is  perfectly 
independent  of  it. 

As  an  object  that  exists  must  have  a  cause,  so  the 
character  of  the  object  is  an  index  to  the  character  of  that 
cause.  Thus  we  reach,  from  considering  all  objects  together, 
the  idea  of  one  common  and  supreme  cause  of  all  things, 
and  we  see  that  that  cause  must  be  purely  spiritual,  self- 
existent,  and  eternal.  In  the  nature  of  these  objects,  in  their 
fixed  properties,  symmetries,  affinities,  and  adaptations,  we 
see  evidence  also  that  this  Creator  must  be  benevolent  and 
wise. 

Nor  is  this  all:  objects  in  nature  proclaim  the  moral  rectitude 
as  well  as  goodness  of  God.  For  in  proportion  as  man  is  in- 
dustrious in  cultivating  and  using  his  own  powers,  in  propor- 
tion as  he  is  sober,  temperate,  chaste,  upright,  in  the  same 
proportion  natural  objects  become  to  him  a  source  of  greater 
and  greater  benefit  and  blessing.  Thus  even  material  substances 
serve  to  show  that  the  Being  from  whom  they  emanate  prefers 
virtue  to  vice, — that  his  government  is  on  the  side  of  morality; 
or,  in  other  words,  judging  the  agent  from  his  acts  and  appoint- 
ments, we  are  constrained  to  infer  that  the  First  Cause  of  all 
material  substances  must  be  a  holy  Being,  who  smiles  on  the 
good  and  frowns  on  the  evil.  And  what  force  and  impress- 
iveness  does  this  inference  derive  from  a  consideration  of  cer- 
tain spiritual  objects, — certain  instincts,  notions,  and  sentiments 
in  our  own  souls!  "  He  that  made  the  eye,  shall  He  not  see? 
He  that  planted  the  ear,  shall  He  not  hear?  He  that  teacheth 
man  knowledge,  shall  He  not  know  ?"  This  argument  to  prove 
the  wisdom  and  omniscience  of  the  Deity  has  the  sanction  of 
inspired  wisdom.  And  may  it  not  be  extended?  He  that 
formed  conscience,  that  moral  eye  of  the  soul ! — He  that  planted 
self-respect,  the  sense  of  honor,  that  spiritual  organ  so  quick 
to  catch  the  sound  of  impending  contamination, — He  that 
gave  that  delicate  moral  tact  which  outruns  the  tardy  opera- 
tions of  reason, — He  that  scourges  the  soul  of  the  guilty  man 


EVENTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS,     yy 

with  fear  and  self-reproach,  and  gives  to  the  good  man,  in  dis- 
grace or  sorrow,  "a  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities,"  can  He 
be  less  than  a  Holy  Being,  a  sin-hating  and  sin-avenging 
God  ?  Could  a  Being,  not  holy,  thus  implant  in  his  creatures 
instincts  and  sentiments  to  be  his  own  reproach?  And  then 
that  irrepressible  sentiment  which  urges  all  men  to  revere 
and  worship, — that  notion  so  deep  seated  of  a  boundless  per- 
fection coupled  with  Personality, — that  idea  of  the  absolute, 
the  infinite,  and  the  just, — where  can  these  find  their  source 
or  centre  but  in  a  God  of  Infinite  moral  excellency  and 
dignity? 

SECTION  II, 

EVENTS    OR    SEQUENCES    CONSIDERED    AS    RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS. 

We  have  now  considered  Objects  as  we  find  them  in  the 
material  and  mental  worlds,  and  have  indicated  some  of  the 
religious  lessons  which  they  afford.  We  proceed  to  examine 
Events  or  Sequences  from  the  same  point  of  view, — we  shall 
find  that  they,  too,  are  distinguished  by  constancy,  by  sym- 
tnetry,  by  affinity  or  resemblance,  and  by  numberless  exact 
and  beautiful  adaptations. 

I.  Constancy. — Objects,  whether  material  or  immaterial, 
are  rarely  stationary.  The  universe  is  full  of  changes  or 
events.  They  occur  in  all  directions  and  under  innumerable 
forms ;  and  yet,  in  the  main,  they  are  constant  and  orderly, 
moving  forward  in  what  for  practical  purposes  may  be  re- 
garded as  unvarying  succession.  Though  the  series  seem 
to  cross  each  other  at  every  point,  and  each  one  is  compli- 
cated by  many  conditions,  yet  there  is  no  widespread  chaos, 
there  is  little  of  conflict  or  confusion.  Wherever  the  same 
concurring  antecedents  present  themselves,  the  same  con- 
sequents follow.  Thus  a  true  history  of  the  past,  in  man 
or   nature,  becomes  in  one   sense   a   clear  prophecy  of  the 


78 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


future.  Man  seeks,  according  to  Bacon,  to  interpret  Nature 
tliat  he  may  serve  her,  and  he  serves  that  he  may  master  her. 
He  Hterally  stoops  to  conquer,  humbles  himself  that  he  may 
be  exalted.  The  movements  of  the  universe  for  the  future 
can  be  divined  only  by  ascertaining  her  operations  in  times 
past;  and  her  mighty  energies  can  be  enlisted  in  man's  behalf 
only  in  proportion  as  he  understands  and  respects  their  pe- 
culiar properties  and  modes  of  acting.  Were  not  natural 
sequences  substantially  fixed  and  uniform,  it  would  be  im- 
possible either  to  foresee  them  or  to  render  them  to  so  great 
an  extent  subservient  to  man's  welfare. 

2.  Symmetry. — As  this  is  a  marked  characteristic  of  objects, 
so  it  is  also  of  sequences,  whether  physical  or  psychological. 
Look  at  the  waves  of  the  sea  as  they  roll  in  succession  to  the 
shore  and  crest  themselves  into  beautiful  wreaths  just  as  they 
break  and  disappear.  Listen  to  the  solemn  cadences  of  the 
winds  or  waterfalls,  or  to  the  deep  murmurs  of  the  ocean, 
nature's  great  orchestra.  Look  at  the  counter-currents  of 
clouds,  moving  in  silent  harmony  along  the  sky,  and  that 
constant  recurrence  of  motions,  progressive  and  retrograde, 
among  the  celestial  orbs,  which  suggested  to  the  ancients  the 
idea  of  music  among  the  spheres.  Look  even  at  the  alterna- 
tions of  heat  and  cold,  rain  and  sunshine,  wind  and  calm, 
regulated  at  first  sight  by  no  law,  yet  serving  as  variations  in 
the  universal  anthem,  or  as  shadows  on  the  vast  picture 
of  nature.  Look  at  currents  of  vapor  ascending  from  the 
earth,  redressed  by  the  descent  of  equal  quantities  of  rain  ; 
and  the  sea  yielding  to  the  land,  through  evaporation,  just  as 
much  as  it  receives  back  through  its  countless  tributaries. 
Consider  opposite  and  equal  polarities  in  Magnetism  and 
Electricity,  and  the  attractions  in  all  matter  counterbalanced 
or  restrained  by  equal  repulsions.  Consider  action  in  me- 
chanics, always  set  off  against  an  equal  and  contrary  reaction; 
and  that  play  of  affinities  in  chemistry,  where  opposing  en- 
ergies seem  ever  ready  to  rush  together,  and,  like  opposing 


EVENTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS,     jg 

hosts  in  war,  lay  in  strife  a  foundation  for  future  union  and 
concord. 

We  trace  this  principle  of  symmetry  everywhere.  The 
vital  fluid  generally  circulates  in  counter  and  equal  currents; 
matter  acts  on  mind,  mind  on  matter.  The  selfish  passions 
are  counteracted  by  the  social,  imagination  by  reason,  pru- 
dence by  conscience,  impulse  by  deliberation.  The  intellect 
reasons  by  induction  and  by  deduction, — conscience  decides 
by  instinct  and  by  reflection,  —  memory  reproduces  spon- 
taneously and  also  by  voluntary  effort, — imagination  sports 
in  airy  fancies  or  combines  with  reference  to  the  actual  and 
the  intended.  Thus  throughout  nature  we  have  harmony  of 
correspondents  or  opposites.  At  one  time  union  by  original 
similarity  and  agreement,  at  another  the  product  of  conflict 
and  strife,  yet  in  each  case  tending  to  ultimate  equilibrium  in 
the  material  and  moral  worlds. 

3.  Resemblances  and  Affinities. — That  this  is  a  character- 
istic of  sequences  or  events  in  the  natural  and  moral  worlds 
must  be  obvious  to  the  most  uninstructed  eye.  We  need, 
however,  the  powerful  glasses  which  Science  supplies  in  order 
to  discern  more  adequately  the  order  and  economy  of  the 
system  to  which  we  belong.  They  enable  us  to  distinguish 
between  the  fixed  and  the  casual,  and  they  reveal  to  us  those 
more  latent,  yet  often  more  essential,  affinities,  which  bind 
together  phenomena  apparently  the  most  unlike. 

Consider,  then,  the  process  of  classifying  and  generalizing 
facts,  which  is  the  foundation  of  all  safe  induction  in  Science. 
It  shows  that  the  resemblances  and  affinities  which  we  have 
found  characterizing  objects  are  equally  characteristic  of  events. 
Gradually  we  learn  to  distinguish  between  cases  of  casual 
juxtaposition  and  those  of  stated  and  permanent  succession. 
Different  sequences,  which  are  ascertained  to  be  fixed,  are 
then  compared,  and  are  found  to  have  more  or  less  in 
common.  Ever  bent  on  simplifying  his  view  of  phenomena, 
and  finding  unity  among  all  the  objects  of  thought,  man  thus 


8o  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

pursues,  in  respect  to  events,  the  same  course  as  in  respect  to 
objects.  He  gathers  them  into  distinct  groups,  and  the  char- 
acteristic mark  of  each  group  being  enunciated  in  language 
becomes  a  laiv.  And  as  in  classifying  objects  we  ascend 
from  species  to  genus,  from  genus  to  order,  and  thus  onward, 
so  it  is  found  in  generalizing  facts  we  can  mount  from  those 
less  comprehensive  to  those  more  so,  till  we  reach  some 
wide  and  far-reaching  principle,  which  seems  to  prevail 
throughout  the  universe,  and  stand  as  the  type  of  one  Infinite 
mind. 

Such  a  principle,  in  the  material  world,  has  been  brought 
to  light  by  the  genius  of  Newton.  It  remains  for  subsequent 
inquirers  to  unfold,  in  the  spheres  of  physiology  and  psy- 
chology, principles  corresponding,  in  their  simplicity  and 
comprehensiveness,  to  this  law  of  gravitation,  —  principles 
which  shall  be  found  to  regulate  all  the  functions  of  organized 
substances  and  all  the  varieties  of  mental  activity.  And  even 
when  this  shall  have  been  accomplished,  we  know  not  that 
the  work  of  generalization  will  be  completed.  The  great 
mathematician.  La  Grange,  is  said  to  have  looked  with  sad- 
ness upon  what  he  termed  the  good  fortune  of  Newton,  "be- 
cause," said  he,  "  the  system  of  the  world  can  be  discovered 
but  once."  But  is  this  so  ?  Has  Newton  exhausted  the  sub- 
ject? Has  he  reached  the  last  and  highest  generalization  ? 
Even  in  the  material  universe,  is  there  not  reason  to  anticipate 
that  agents  like  heat,  electricity,  and  magnetism,  once  re- 
garded as  independent  both  of  each  other  and  of  gravitation, 
may  all  be  found  at  last,  in  common  with  gravitation,  to  be 
but  modifications  of  a  single  principle  still  more  comprehen- 
sive ?  Or,  again,  is  it  altogether  incredible  that,  in  the  progress 
of  future  discoveries,  there  may  be  unfolded  some  principle  or 
analogy  of  still  wider  generality, — one  that  shall  be  found  to 
extend  alike  over  matter,  over  organized  life,  and  over  mind; 
that,  as  all  these  have  been  united  and  blended  in  one  being, 
Man,  so  it  may  be  found  that  one  great  idea  or  archetype 


EVENTS   CONSIDERED   AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS,     gl 

stretches  its  sceptre  over  all  the  countless  and  diversified 
phenomena  that  occur  around  and  within  us  ? 

The  lessons  which  Science  now  reads,  respecting  the  order 
and  harmony  of  the  universe,  are  poor  and  meagre  when 
compared  with  those  she  is  destined  to  read  hereafter.  In 
some  departments  she  has  only  just  begun  to  unfold  the 
vast  volume,  which  will  be  found  inscribed  throughout  with 
evidences  of  Eternal  Power  and  Godhead.  Who  doubts  that 
she  is  to  advance  in  this  work  with  accelerated  speed  ?  All 
that  she  has  achieved  heretofore  only  fits  her  for  deeper  re- 
searches, for  bolder  tentatives;  and  who  shall  say  that,  in  her 
future  career,  she  is  ever  to  reach  a  point  where  it  can  be  truly 
said.  Thus  far  shalt  thou  come  and  no  farther?  Subjects  there 
may  be  which  must,  from  their  very  nature,  be  forever  in- 
scrutable to  our  view,  because  they  have  been  placed  beyond 
the  ken  of  intuition  or  consciousness,  of  observation  or 
analysis.  But  within  the  limits  prescribed  for  the  applica- 
tion of  these  means  of  investigation,  who  does  not  feel  that 
an  inexhaustible  world  of  truth  spreads  out  before  us;  and 
that  however  high  the  intellect  may  soar,  or  however  deep  it 
may  dive,  or  however  far  it  may  wing  its  untiring  flight,  it 
will  leave  an  immense  expanse  still  unexplored,  so  that  there 
will  be  full  employment  for  all  its  powers  throughout  an  end- 
less duration?  Infinite  truth,  and  a  mind  that  has  illimitable 
and  insatiate  cravings  for  its  light,  do  not  these  point  towards 
a  source  at  once  Infinite  and  Intelligent? 

And  then  consider  the  manner  in  which  future  discoveries 
are  to  be  achieved.  It  is  by  employing,  with  sagacity  and 
unyielding  industry,  all  the  discoveries  and  inventions  of  the 
past.  We  know  more  than  our  ancestors,  because,  as  Bacon 
said,  we  are  older  than  they.  To  our  brief  term  of  life  we  add 
the  sum  of  all  theirs  who  have  toiled  successfully  for  the  in- 
struction of  mankind  in  past  time,  and  who  have  bequeathed 
to  us  the  fruits  of  their  toil.  They  and  we  look  on  the  same 
face  of  Nature.     They  and  we  thread  our  way  through  laby- 

6 


82  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

rinths  under  the  guidance  of  the  same  assumed  principles. 
However  dissimilar  the  case,  which  we  examine  from  any  yet 
discovered,  we  still  reason  from  the  known  to  the  unknown, 
assured  that  one  general  system,  one  unique  and  character- 
istic style,  prevails  throughout  the  universe,  and  that  undis- 
covered truths  will  be  found  crowded  with  analogies  and 
resemblances  to  those  which  are  already  discovered.  And 
this  assurance,  what  is  it  in  truth  but  the  assurance  that  that 
Beinsf,  who  is  the  source  and  centre  of  all  worlds  and  all 
events,  is  never  inconsistent  with  Himself,  and  sends  forth 
therefore  no  works  that  are  essentially  incongruous  ?  These 
instinctive  assumptions  of  analogy  between  all  truth,  dis- 
covered and  undiscovered,  are  sometimes  abused;  but  the 
fact  is  incontestable,  and  it  is  one  which  seems  to  us  full  of 
significance. 

4.  Adaptations. — In  surveying  sequences  or  laws,  we  may 
consider  them  both  in  their  adjustment  to  each  other  and  in 
their  adaptation  to  the  welfare  of  our  race  and  of  all  terrestrial 
beings.  These  sequences  are  independent  of  each  other. 
Mechanical  and  chemical  changes  would  go  on  though  there 
were  no  life  on  the  earth,  and  plants  and  animals  would  live 
though  there  were  no  men.  Here,  then,  are  four  independent 
worlds,  each  interpenetrating  and  being  adapted  to  the  rest. 
The  soil,  air,  and  water  yield  nourishment  to  vegetables, — 
vegetables  sustain  animals, — animals  are  food  for  man.  A 
poisonous  gas  is  given  out  by  animals  in  respiration ;  it  is 
snatched  up  by  plants  as  necessary  food,  and  as  if  to  save 
man  from  its  deleterious  effects.  Light  and  heat  are  essential 
to  the  vegetable  and  animal  worlds.  Great  magazines  of  each 
have  been  provided  and  stationed  throughout  all  nature. 
Each  is  propagated  in  virtue  of  its  own  intrinsic  buoyancy, 
and  the  atmosphere  is  so  formed  that  each  passes  unob- 
structed throughout  its  whole  extent.  So  in  the  mental  and 
moral  worlds.  How  admirably  perception  is  adapted  to 
judgment,  and   both    to    memory,  and   all   to  imagination! 


EVENTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS. 


83 


How  the  passions  and  emotions  are  adjusted  in  respect  to  the 
intellect,  and  all  subordinated  to  conscience !  How  habit  is 
connected  with  voluntary  action,  and  both  with  passive  sus- 
ceptibilities !  How  the  selfish  and  social  affections  conspire 
to  promote  both  the  happiness  of  the  individual  and  the  wel- 
fare of  society!  And  even  when  we  compare  the  physical  and 
moral  worlds,  we  find  that  they  are  not  without  their  mutual 
fitnesses.  Impressions  from  external  objects  rouse  the  dormant 
intellect  and  quicken  the  sluggish  sentiments.  They  inform 
us  of  what  exists  and  transpires  without ;  and  muscular  mo- 
tion, directed  by  intellect,  enables  us  to  react  upon  this  outer 
world,  and  to  modify  both  its  objects  and  its  events.  Earth 
yields  her  increase  only  to  labor,  that  promotes  health  and 
develops  intellect;  and  man,  who  does  not  live  by  bread 
alone,  finds  that  in  elaborating  from  the  raw  material,  fur- 
nished by  nature  or  provided  by  art,  the  fabrics  which  are  to 
warm  and  decorate  his  person,  or  the  edifices  which  are  to 
shelter  him  from  heat  and  cold,  he  is  at  the  same  time  laying 
the  foundation  of  laws  and  civilization,  and  contributing  to 
improve  himself,  his  neighbor,  and  the  world. 

{a)  But,  to  be  more  particular,  consider  first  Physical 
Sequences  or  Laws.  Take,  as  an  example,  the  law  that 
bodies  expand  or  contract  in  volume  according  as  they  are 
more  or  less  heated.  This  law  is  pregnant  with  blessings 
throughout  nature.  Suspend  it  and  no  water  would  be  con- 
verted into  vapor,  no  vapor  would  be  condensed  into  showers, 
no  currents  of  air  from  colder  regions  would  flow  in  to  temper 
our  too  fervid  summer  heat;  nor  in  the  winter  would  milder 
breezes  from  the  warm  and  sunny  South  come  to  allay  the 
fierceness  of  our  cold. 

The  very  exceptions  to  this  law  are  full  of  benefit  to  man 
and  to  all  living  creatures.  Water,  in  passing  below  forty 
degrees  of  Fahrenheit,  ceases  to  contract,  and  suddenly  ex- 
pands, so  as  to  render  a  given  volume  of  water  larger  when 
frozen  than  when  in  its  liquid  state.      Now,  mark  how  this 


84 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


very  exception  to  a  great  and  all-comprehending  law  is  intro- 
duced, as  it  were,  on  purpose,  and  adapted  to  produce  the 
utmost  good.  It  renders  ice  specifically  lighter  than  water,  so 
that  it  floats  upon  the  surface  instead  of  sinking  to  the  bottom, 
in  successive  layers,  till  the  whole  of  the  stream  or  lake  being 
conerealed  into  one  solid  mass,  no  summer's  sun  would  suf- 
fice  to  thaw  it  out.  Look,  again,  at  the  effect  of  this  excep- 
tion in  the  case  of  rocks.  Expanded  by  heat,  their  pores  and 
fissures  are  thrown  open  to  water,  which  insinuates  itself  into 
their  interior,  and  then,  when  winter  comes,  this  water,  being 
frozen,  expands,  and  like  a  mighty  wedge  splits  off  great 
fragments,  as  well  as  lesser  portions,  and  thus  contributes  to 
that  rapid  disintegration  of  rock  which  is  necessary  to  re- 
plenish a  soil  constantly  wasted  by  the  flow  of  streams  bear- 
ing its  minutest  particles  towards  the  ocean. 

In  addition  to  the  agency  of  this  expansive  power  of  heat  in 
the  atmosphere  and  on  the  surface  of  the  globe,  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  that  it  is  the  same  principle,  in  the  form  of 
central  heat  within  our  earth,  which,  from  time  to  time,  heaves 
up  islands,  continents,  and  mountain  chains,  and  thus  ex- 
poses, for  the  use  and  benefit  of  man,  those  great  layers  of 
mineral  wealth  which  would  otherwise  be  inaccessible,  and 
which  are  rich  in  contributions  to  human  welfare.  The  same 
cause  probably  occasioned  those  violent  irruptions  of  the  sea, 
sweeping  over  whole  continents,  of  which  we  have  striking 
traces  in  immense  boulders  of  rock  removed  far  from  their 
parent  seat,  in  deeply  worn  channels,  and  in  widely  scattered 
drift. 

But  we  do  little  justice  to  the  wisdom  and  benignity  of 
these  adaptations  unless  we  look  beyond  nature  to  art.  Every 
established  sequence  is  useful,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events, 
when  undisturbed  by  man.  But  its  usefulness  becomes  ten- 
fold more  apparent  when  we  consider  how  industry,  guided 
by  knowledge,  can  reproduce  these  sequences,  or  can  divert 
them  from   their   natural  channels,  in   order  to  make  them 


EVENTS   CONSIDERED   AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS. 


85 


obedient  and  all-bountiful  agents  of  specific  good  to  man. 
Thus,  with  the  law  we  have  just  mentioned,  the  wheelwright, 
by  means  of  the  expansive  power  of  heat,  binds  on  his  tire, 
the  founder  rolls  out  his  iron,  the  architect  braces  up  his 
walls,  the  servant  kindles  and  maintains  his  fire.  But  above 
all,  the  steam-engine — second  only  to  the  printing-press  as  a 
mechanical  benefactor  to  mankind — is  but  a  means  of  apply- 
ing to  man's  service  and  benefit  this  simple  law  that  heat 
expands  bodies. 

And  so  with  every  physical  law :  it  goes  forth  through  all 
nature  working  countless  benefits.  But  it  goes  also  offering 
a  perpetual  challenge  to  man's  ingenuity,  industry,  persever- 
ance, justice,  and  love  of  happiness.  It  says  to  him,  "  Here 
am  I  ready  to  be  yoked  to  your  triumphal-car,  and  to  con- 
tribute to  your  dominion  over  nature ;  here  am  I  ready  to 
toil  in  raising  your  food,  fabricating  your  raiment,  rearing 
your  edifices,  building  your  roads,  spanning  your  rivers, 
cheapening  your  knowledge  and  bearing  it  to  and  fro  with 
the  velocity  of  the  winds;  but,  then,  you  must  study  to  know 
my  nature  and  properties.  You  must  tax  invention  that  those 
properties  may  be  employed  aright;  you  must  use  vigilance 
in  superintending  my  toils;  and  you  must  see  that  peace  and 
justice  reign,  so  that  my  products  may  be  dispensed  abroad, 
and  may  carry  comfort  and  happiness  to  the  remotest  ham- 
lets of  your  own  and  other  lands.  I  will  be  your  patient  slave 
and  benefactor,  but  only  on  conditions.  You  must  serve  a 
probation  of  inquiry,  research,  experiment,  till  you  establish 
a  right  to  me;  and  that  right  you  can  retain,  in  its  highest 
perfection,  only  so  long  as  you  pay  some  heed  to  the  great 
moral  law  that  enjoins  industry,  foresight,  self-restraint,  and 
justice." 

What  is  true,  then,  of  the  law  that  heat  expands  bodies  is 
true  of  every  physical  sequence.  In  the  order  and  economy 
of  nature  each  is  a  source  of  blessing;  but  each  becomes  yet 
more  fruitful  in  such  blessing  through  the  art  and  industry 


36  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

of  man.  Indeed,  the  usifiil  arts  are  but  the  appHcation  to 
specific  purposes  of  natural  laws  and  properties.  In  propor- 
tion as  these  laws  are  comprehended  and  respected,  just  in 
that  proportion  does  industry  triumph  over  difficulties  and 
achieve  advantages,  economizing  time,  saving  labor  and  ma- 
terial, and  at  the  same  time  improving  products.  Thus  every 
law  in  Physics  and  Chemistry  summons  man  to  study  that 
he  may  understand,  and  to  understand  that  he  may  employ  it. 
Benefits  and  blessings  unnumbered  he  receives  through  these 
laws  without  intervention  of  his  own ;  but  it  must  awaken 
our  gratitude  and  admiration  that  he  has  it  in  his  power  to 
augment  these  benefits,  almost  without  limit;  that  he  is  not 
left  to  be  a  mere  passive  recipient  of  the  good  he  enjoys,  but 
is  called  to  study  these  agents  and  prime  movers  of  nature  to 
co-operate  with  them,  to  guard  against  the  incidental  evils 
they  may  occasion,  and  thus  to  enlarge  and  multiply  his 
physical  enjoyments  by  the  very  means  that  develop  his  intel- 
lectual and  moral  powers.  What,  indeed,  can  be  more  in- 
dicative of  Infinite  Goodness,  Wisdom,  and  Holiness  than  the 
fact,  too  little  considered,  that,  on  the  whole,  the  improvement 
of  our  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  condition  is  one  and, 
in  some  sense,  indivisible;  that  man  cannot  advance  the  useful 
arts  without  enlarging  the  range  of  human  knowledge  and 
thought,  and  thus  adding  to  the  moral  as  well  as  to  the  physical 
resources  of  his  race;  and  that  no  individual  can  ever  practice 
one  of  these  arts  unless  he  observes  some  of  those  higher 
laws  that  tend  to  refine  and  exalt  our  whole  being  ? 

{b)  It  is  the  same  with  intellectual  laws.  Take,  for  ex- 
ample, the  law  of  Sjtggcstion  or  Association,  by  which  one 
thought  in  the  mind  always  leads  to  another  somehow  re- 
lated to  it, — the  relation  being  sometimes  casual,  sometimes 
real  and  philosophical.  How  manifold  the  blessings  of  which 
this  law  is  the  agent  and  minister!  It  keeps  the  mind  always 
peopled  with  objects,  though  ever  so  much  bent  on  idleness 
and  vacancy.    Through  those  objects  it  holds  out  lures  to  in- 


EVENTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS. 


87 


quiry  and  reflection,  perhaps  also  to  action.  It  carries  us 
back,  even  against  our  will,  to  the  past,  with  its  remembrances 
that  ought  to  excite  shame  and  amendment,  with  its  lessons 
of  dear-bought  experience,  with  its  stirring  notes  that  warn 
of  danger  or  animate  to  duty.  It  bears  us  onward  in  thought 
to  the  future,  and  sketches  all  the  probable  and  possible  of  our 
coming  destiny,  or  it  conducts  us  towards  the  borders  of  un- 
known truth,  and  invites  us  to  investigate  and  to  reflect.  It 
invests  every  object  and  event  with  hues  borrowed  from 
abroad ;  and  thus  it  contributes,  if  the  mind  be  well  regu- 
lated, the  life  innocent  and  useful,  and  the  faith  heavenward, 
to  gild  with  sunshine  all  our  way  through  this  earthly  pil- 
grimage. 

Here  again  we  find  that  the  law  becomes  doubly  useful 
when  understood  and  applied  by  man.  In  the  hands,  for  ex- 
ample, of  the  Painter,  the  Poet,  the  Orator,  the  Dramatist,  the 
principle  of  Suggestion  or  Association  is  a  wand  of  enchant- 
ment, which  he  has  but  to  wave  aright  and  images  of  beauty 
or  tenderness,  of  terror  or  mirthfulness,  of  sublimity  or  mean- 
ness, come  thronging  before  the  mind.  As  the  useful  arts 
consist  in  applying  physical  laws  and  properties  to  the  pur- 
poses of  man's  subsistence  and  comfort,  so  the  liberal  arts  are 
methods  which  have  been  invented  of  applying  psychological 
laws  to  the  higher  purpose  of  convincing  the  understanding, 
of  awakening  the  imagination,  of  moving  the  affections  and 
passions,  of  gratifying  the  taste  or  regulating  the  life.  And  as 
in  the  Fine  Arts,  so  also  in  the  education  of  the  young,  in  the 
culture  and  development  of  his  own  nature,  in  all  the  inter- 
course of  life,  when  he  would  apply  influence  to  others  or 
dispense  happiness  as  he  moves  abroad;  everywhere,  in  fact, 
there  is  occasion  to  employ  these  intellectual  laws,  and  benefit 
or  injury  will  attend  our  steps  and  attest  our  agency  accord- 
ing as  we  employ  them  well  or  ill,  understanding  or  mistaking 
their  true  nature,  using  or  abusing  their  almost  boundless  in- 
fluence. 


88  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

[c)  So  with  MORAL  LAWS.  Take,  for  example,  the  great  law 
of  forbearance  and  forgiveness.  This  law  bids  us,  instead  of 
retaliating  or  merely  punishing  an  injury,  to  overcome  evil 
with  good.  It  requires  us  to  place  ourselves  in  the  attitude 
of  a  friend  and  benefactor  towards  the  injurious;  and  even 
when  we  inflict  punishment,  to  do  it  in  the  spirit  of  kindness, 
while  we  extend  not  a  cold  forgiveness  only  but  active  bene- 
fits also.  Slow  as  mankind  have  been  to  understand  and 
apply  this  law  to  social  and  civil  relations,  there  are  places 
where  it  has  always  asserted  its  authority.  In  all  ages  of  the 
world,  and  in  all  states  of  society,  a  parent's  heart  has  owned 
it  with  an  instinct  which  outstripped  every  deduction  of  logic 
as  well  as  every  mandate  of  authority.  How  many  millions 
of  mothers,  who  never  heard  of  the  great  law  of  love,  nor  of 
that  matchless  illustration  of  it  which  was  presented  in  the  life 
and  death  of  Christ,  have  still  toiled  long  and  patiently  for  a 
thankless  and  deeply  offending  child!  Not  only  without  being 
distinctly  recognized  by  men,  but,  we  might  almost  say,  with- 
out their  intervention,  this  law  has  still  wrought  out  bless- 
ings !  Many  a  child  owes  to  it  a  care,  which  he  long  since 
forfeited  by  his  misdeeds, — and  to  care,  so  bestowed  and  per- 
severed in,  when  all  was  provocation,  how  many  a  child  owes 
it  also  that  his  heart  has  at  length  been  touched  with  com- 
punctions of  remorse, — and  he  has  been  brought  back  an 
humble  prodigal  to  a  parent's  fond  embrace !  What  stripes 
could  not  effect  has  been  achieved  by  the  deep  devotion,  the 
exhaustless  forbearance,  of  one  whose  love  could  outlive  and 
outlabor  all  perverseness  and  ingratitude.  And  not  in  the 
parent's  heart  alone  has  God  set  up  this  sentiment  to  be  his 
own  representative.  Often  has  the  meekness  and  patient 
assiduity  of  a  son  or  daughter — continued  when  all  in  return 
was  unkindness  or  injustice — melted  down  the  obduracy  of  a 
profligate  and  unprincipled  father.  Often  has  the  wife,  hoping 
against  hope,  toiling  on  amidst  neglect  and  contumely  and 
deep  wrong  from  him  who  was  pledged  to  cherish  and  pro- 


EVENTS  CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS. 


89 


tect  her, — how  often  has  this,  her  return  of  good  for  evil,  fallen 
like  coals  of  fire  upon  the  transgressor's  head,  and  subdued 
him  at  length  to  repentance  and  a  better  mind  ! 

Thus  has  a  mighty,  unreflecting  instinct  achieved  in  the 
domestic  circle  what  reason  and  deliberate  effort  only  can 
accomplish  elsewhere.  When  we  deal  with  convicts  in  our 
prisons,  with  sots  in  their  debasement,  with  females  lost 
through  licentiousness,  above  all,  with  those  who  have 
wronged,  defamed,  or  insulted  us,  we  have  then  no  all-power- 
ful instincts  urging  us  to  forbearance  and  love.  Then  we 
can  appeal  only  to  the  energies  of  our  higher  nature,  and 
must  impose,  through  the  stern  mandate  of  the  will,  a  restraint 
upon  our  passions.  Hence  we,  too  often,  give  way  to  moral 
indignation,  and  visiting  offenders  only  with  retribution  or  re- 
taliation, we  rouse  resistance  and  fortify  the  spirit  of  trans- 
gression, when  we  may  have  only  aimed  to  awe  and  to  subdue. 
It  is  since  we  learned  to  enter  the  prison-house  with  a  parent's 
heart,  with  something  of  the  forbearance  of  an  injured  wife, — 
since,  with  intense  displeasure  at  the  sin,  we  have  come  to 
couple  and  to  manifest  cordial  good  will  and  compassion 
towards  the  sinner, — that  we  have  begun  to  triumph  over  the 
spirit  of  stout  resistance  which  once  reigned  there,  and  have 
converted  the  reformation  of  criminals  from  a  mere  dream  of 
Utopian  philanthropy  into  a  heart-cheering  fact.  Thus,  then, 
do  moral  lazvs  become  sources  of  blessing  in  proportion  as  we 
understand  and  apply  them.  Useful  arts,  as  we  have  seen,  are 
the  application,  by  man's  intelligence,  of  physical  lazvs  to  usefiil 
purposes,  just  as  the  liberal  arts  are  the  applicatioji  to  corre- 
sponding but  higher  purposes  o{  psychological  lazvs.  But  here 
we  have  another  class  of  arts  which  might  be  termed  moral 
arts,  and  which,  in  their  manifold  operations,  are  but  so  many 
adaptations,  made  by  man,  of  the  Creator's  moral  laws  in 
order  to  advance  human  welfare. 

We  have  thus  dwelt  upon  laws,  or  sequences,  as  adapted  in 
a  twofold  respect  to  display  the  divine  wisdom  and  goodness : 


QO  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

first,  as  they  conduce,  of  themselves,  to  the  enjoyment  of  men 
and  animals  ;  and  secondly,  as  their  natural  utility  admits  of 
indefinite  increase  throu^^h  the  agency  of  man.  The  last  is  a 
view  not  often  dwelt  upon  in  books  ;  but  it  is  one  which  can 
hardly  fail  to  suggest  itself  to  a  thoughtful  mind  in  this  day  of 
victorious  industry,  rendered  yet  more  victorious  a  thousand- 
fold through  the  application  of  science.  Aided  by  a  knowl- 
edge of  natural  laws,  labor  is  constantly  augmenting  the  means 
and  appliances  of  human  welfare,  and  thus  a  boundless  field 
spreads  out  before  us,  where  man,  in  achieving  new  triumphs 
for  himself,  unfolds  new  views  of  a  wisdom  which  could  fore- 
see, and  a  kindness  and  power  which  could  provide  for  such 
a  progress.  The  very  difference,  in  this  respect,  between  man 
and  animals,  how  indicative  of  infinite  goodness !  Animals, 
from  the  first,  avail  themselves  with  unerring  precision  of 
those  properties  in  bodies,  and  those  mechanical  and  chemi- 
cal laws,  which  affect  most  nearly  their  well-being.  Man 
reaches  this  accuracy  only  after  many  mistakes ;  but,  then,  in 
reaching  it,  what  stores  of  experience  does  he  not  gain,  and 
what  developments  does  he  not  give  to  those  intellectual  and 
moral  powers  which  form  his  glory  here,  and  which,  if  duly 
improved,  are  to  be  his  crown  of  honor  and  rejoicing  here- 
after !  Animals,  left  from  early  infancy  without  parental 
guidance,  and  devoid  of  that  discourse  of  reason  which  looks 
before  and  after,  need  intuition  and  unerring  instincts.  Man, 
on  the  other  hand,  endowed  as  he  is  with  this  high  faculty ; 
placed,  too,  for  years  under  pupilage,  and  destined  for  an 
endless  future,  in  which  character  is  to  determine  condition, 
and  previous  voluntary  acts  and  habits  are  to  determine  char- 
acter,— man  needs  to  be  placed  on  probation  even  in  respect 
to  his  physical  powers,  and  to  reach  the  perfection  of  his  lot 
only  through  a  painful  but  instructive  path,  that  taxes  all 
his  energies,  but  which,  if  duly  trodden,  renders  every  effort 
subservient  to  the  exaltation  of  his  nature  and  his  condition. 
Thus,  again,  in  this  admirable  adaptation  of  our  state  to  our 


EVENTS  CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS. 


91 


mental  conformation  and  to  our  ultimate  well-being,  does  the 
Most  High  give  us  assurance  of  his  parental  care. 

Is  it  said  that  this  regularity  of  sequences,  with  its  adapta- 
tion to  useful  purposes,  may  all  be  imputed  to  a  necessary 
connection  between  the  successive  terms  in  the  series  and  be- 
tween them  and  the  ends  attained, — as  in  plants,  the  various 
parts  may  be  regarded  as  the  natural  and  necessary  develop- 
ment of  one  common  principle  or  organ?  Admit  for  a  moment 
(to  adopt  this  example)  that  the  modern  doctrine  of  a  meta- 
morphosis of  organs  in  Botany  is  true ;  suppose  that  all  parts 
of  a  plant  can  be  traced  back  to  one  common  type,  and  be 
viewed  as  different  developments  of  one  rudimentary  organ, 
such  as  the  leaf:  still,  the  manner  in  which  these  different  parts 
are  modified,  so  as  to  correspond  to  the  several  purposes  they 
answer,  furnish  most  impressive  evidences  of  design.  There 
is,  however,  much  more  than  this.  You  hold  in  your  hand  a 
flower.  Concede  to  the  morphologist  that  the  beautiful 
petals  of  the  corolla  are  but  leaves  reduced  in  size,  thinned  and 
colored ;  concede  that  the  stamen  is  a  leaf  whose  petiole  is 
represented  by  the  filament,  while  the  two  lobes  of  the  anther 
are  the  two  sides  of  its  lamina;  concede  that  the  pollen  is 
disintegrated  mesophyll,  and  so  on, — nay,  concede,  what  few 
philosophical  botanists  would  demand,  that  the  wonderful 
manner  in  which  this  rudimentary  organ  is  metamorphosed, 
so  as  to  answer  with  precision  so  many  and  such  various  pur- 
poses, proves  nothing  of  creative  foresight,  but  all  may  be 
ascribed  to  a  necessary  law :  still,  how  much  remains  to  be 
explained  !  On  tracing  down  the  stalk  from  which  that  flower 
was  plucked,  you  find  that  its  roots  and  root-fibres  are  adapted 
to  the  double  purpose  of  giving  firm  footing  in  the  soil  and  of 
absorbing  from  it  different  substances,  solid,  liquid,  and  aeri- 
form ;  that  it  has  organs  fitted  perfectly  for  the  circulation  of 
those  substances,  and  for  their  conversion  into  different  parts 
of  the  plant ;  that  the  size  and  weight  of  the  flower  corre- 
spond to  the  size  of  the  stalk,  and  the  whole  together  to  the 


92  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Strength  and  stability  of  the  base,  and  all  these  again  to  the 
size  of  the  earth.  We  observe,  again,  that  while  the  roots  are 
thus  admirably  adjusted  w  ith  respect  to  the  earth,  the  leaves 
are  no  less  admirably  adapted  to  the  action  of  light,  of  air,  and 
of  moisture.  That  light,  for  example,  not  only  serves,  as  it 
falls  on  the  leaf,  to  rouse  its  dormant  energies  and  quicken 
the  process  of  vegetable  assimilation,  but  that  it  is  reflected 
from  that  leaf  to  an  eye  so  formed  as  to  derive  pleasure  alike 
from  the  color  and  the  form  ;  that  the  odoriferous  particles  of 
the  flower  again  seem  to  have  been  constituted  with  reference 
to  the  air  through  which  they  pass,  and  to  the  sensitive  organ 
on  which  they  fall.  And  lastly,  we  observe  that  all  this  external 
and  material  mechanism  corresponds,  in  a  manner  the  most 
wonderful,  to  the  spiritual  principle  within  us  ;  that  one  glance 
at  this  flower,  with  one  sensation  of  its  fragrance,  is  enough  to 
awaken  pleasure  in  the  deepest  depths  of  the  soul  ;  that  it  can 
carry  the  thoughts,  as  if  by  enchantment,  far  away  from  the 
present  to  some  paradise  of  happy  memories  or  of  fancied  de- 
light,— to  the  garden  where  we  roamed  in  childhood,  to  some 
island  of  the  blest,  the  creation  of  poetry,  or  to  that  fairer 
scene,  where 

"  Airs,  vernal  airs, 
Breathing  the  smell  of  field  and  grove,  attune 
The  trembling  leaves,  while  universal  Pan, 
Knit  with  the  Graces  and  the  Hours  in  dance, 
Led  on  eternal  Spring." 

In  all  these  adaptations  between  substances  so  independent, 
so  dissimilar,  resulting  in  effects  so  beneficent,  who  does  not 
see  the  hand  of  a  Being  as  wonderful  in  counsel  as  He  is 
mighty  in  working?  Exceptions  there  may  be  to  the  benefi- 
cence of  these  results.  Instances  rare,  but  yet  indisputable,  in 
which  disorder  rather  than  order  seems  to  reign.  But  who 
does  not  feel  that  these  are  but  as  the  dust  in  the  balance,  and 
that  they  serve  as  shadows  to  set  off  the  transcendent  bright- 


EVENTS   CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS.      03 

ness  of  that  great  picture  which  God  has  given  us  in  Nature 
of  his  own  boundless  Perfections? 

It  is  with  Events,  then,  as  with  Objects.  By  their  constancy 
and  symmetry,  by  their  affinities  and  adaptations,  both  point 
towards  an  IntelHgent  First  Cause,  and  supply  innumerable 
indications  of  his  wisdom,  benevolence,  and  holiness.  Both, 
also,  carrv  us  to  the  same  conclusion,  if  we  consider  them 
simply  in  their  cause  or  origin.  We  saw,  in  the  last  section, 
that,  in  reflecting  on  objects,  the  human  mind  is  constrained  to 
ascend  from  one  to  another  cause  or  ground  of  their  being, 
until  it  rests  at  last  in  the  idea  of  a  self-existent,  eternal,  and 
personal  Creator;  that  this  idea  is  not  so  much  extracted 
from  objects  as  assumed  in  order  to  render  them  intelligible ; 
that,  like  the  ideas  of  space  and  duration,  it  seems  inseparable 
from  the  natural  operations  of  the  mind  when  applied  to  phe- 
nomena, needing  observation  merely  to  develop,  not  to  create 
it.  It  is  the  same  with  events  or  changes,  whether  mechanical 
or  chemical,  intellectual  or  moral.  You  see  a  stone  fall  to  the 
ground :  you  ask  the  cause, — the  answer  is,  gravity.  The 
mind  instinctively  asks,  whence  is  gravity  ?  We  are  told  again 
that  many  geological  facts  can  be  referred  to  the  action  of  sub- 
terranean heat  breaking  forth  in  earthquakes  and  volcanoes, — 
can  we  help  asking  whence  that  subterranean  heat?  So 
with  every  series  of  effects  and  causes.  The  mind  ascends  in- 
tuitively from  instrumental  to  efficient,  from  proximate  to  ulti- 
mate agency,  from  second  causes  to  a  First  Cause.  As  we 
cannot  help  interpreting  the  adaptations  and  order  of  such  a 
series  by  the  consciousness  of  purpose  and  design  which  we 
carry  in  our  own  minds,  and  therefore  feel  obliged  to  ascribe  it 
to  intelligence ;  so  the  consciousness  of  power  which  we  feel  in 
our  own  souls,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  originates  changes, 
constrains  us  to  ascend  to  the  notion  of  a  self-existent  and 
almighty  Power,  the  cause  of  all  things.  The  skeptic  may 
affirm  what  he  will  of  the  impropriety  of  raising  such  ques- 
tions, and  of  the  futility  of  all  answers  to  them.     The  mind 


94  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

that  thinks  cannot  help  considering  them.  It  is  so  formed 
that  it  can  never  rest  content  with  mere  sequences,  however 
generalized.  The  notion  of  a  Supreme  Being,  therefore,  seems 
necessary  to  us;  and  the  skeptic  achieves  Hterally  nothing 
when  he  succeeds  in  showing  that  second  causes  may  have 
been  the  immediate  occasion  of  that  which  we  have  been 
accustomed  to  ascribe  to  the  direct  act  of  a  First  Cause. 

It  is  known  to  many  of  our  readers  that  modern  science,  in 
the  hands  of  some  of  its  disciples,  has  suggested  the  idea  that 
the  earth,  and  all  that  it  contains,  instead  of  springing  imme- 
diately from  the  fiat  of  a  Creator,  may  have  been  but  the 
gradual  development  of  a  mighty  germ  of  existence,  begin- 
ning, according  to  the  nebular  theory  of  La  Place,  with  the 
condensation  of  nebulous  matter  in  the  heavens,  which  finally 
contracted  into  a  solid  globe  by  cooling  ;  that  from  this  globe 
there  arose,  in  due  time,  by  the  agency  of  chemical,  mechani- 
cal, and  other  inherent  laws,  the  simpler  forms  of  vegetable 
and  animal  life ;  that  from  these  rudimentary  forms  sprang 
in  succession  other  and  more  perfect,  as  well  as  more  compli- 
cated, varieties,  until  at  length  man, — the  lord  of  this  lower 
world,  with  all  his  affections,  his  moral  sentiments,  his  intel- 
lectual powers,  his  unquenchable  desires,  his  capacities  for 
illimitable  progress,  his  irrepressible  energies,  that  go  forth 
exploring  worlds  of  undiscovered  truth,  and  levelling  mount- 
ains of  practical  difficulty,  and  when  they  have  done  it  all  still 
pine  for  other  worlds  to  conquer, — man,  the  last  of  these  de- 
velopments, steps  forth,  not  the  immediate  workmanship  of 
God,  but  the  necessary  result  of  powers  and  processes  that 
have  been  at  work  for  millions  of  years  or  ages. 

Need  we  say  that  these  are  the  mere  suggestions  of  adven- 
turous speculation?  No  man  of  science  will  pretend,  though 
the  testimony  of  the  Bible  be  set  aside  and  they  are  weighed 
by  inductive  philosophy  alone,  that,  even  in  such  cases,  they 
can  claim  for  their  support  more  than  the  slimmest  probability. 
But  admit  that  the  theory  is  true:  is  that  a  legitimate  conclu- 


EVENTS  CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS. 


95 


sion  which  is  drawn  from  it  ?  When  sages  explained  the 
stabihty  of  the  earth  by  poising  it  on  the  back  of  an  animal, 
the  inquirer  naturally  asked — he  could  but  ask — on  what  the 
animal  itself  stood.  Suppose,  then,  with  La  Place,  "the  sun's 
atmosphere  expanded  by  heat  did  reach  the  limits  of  our  sys- 
tem, that  it  gradually  contracted  in  cooling,  and  that  during 
the  revolution  of  this  immense  system  of  vapor  round  the 
sun's  axis  the  Georgium  Sidus,  Saturn,  Jupiter,  Mars,  the 
Earth,  were  gradually  thrown  off  from  it  into  their  present 
orbits,  and  with  the  velocity  of  the  atmosphere  of  which  they 
formed  a  part,  that  they  contracted  into  solid  globes  by  cool- 
ing, having  previously  in  their  turn  thrown  off  their  satellites  ; 
and  that  the  characteristic  circumstances  in  the  system  thus 
found,  which  produce  stability,  are  the  necessary  consequences 
of  this  mode  of  formation:"  admit,  too,  with  Lamarck  and 
other  French  naturalists,  that  the  earliest  and  simplest  forms 
of  organic  life  started  spontaneously  into  existence ;  and  that 
all  other  forms  sprang  from  these,  in  virtue  either  of  appeten- 
cies or  of  an  intrinsic  law  of  development:  have  we  thereby 
explained  the  system  of  the  world  ?  Have  we  eliminated  from 
our  great  moral  and  physical  equation  the  unknown  quantity 
— God?  "Who  created  or  planted  a  sun  in  the  centre  of 
what  was  to  become  a  system  of  future  worlds  ?  Who  supplied 
the  due  portions  of  heat  to  expand  his  atmosphere  through 
that  region  of  space  in  which  it  was  to  deposit  the  future 
abodes  of  life  and  intelligence  ?  Who  added  the  rotary  im- 
pulse, and  adjusted  it  to  that  precise  velocity  which  would 
throw  off  planets  revolving  in  harmonious  stability,  in  place 
of  comets  wheeling  in  eccentric  and  unstable  orbits  ?  By 
what  power  was  that  heat  withdrawn,  so  as  to  permit  the 
zones  of  the  solar  atmosphere  to  contract  successively  into 
solid  planets  ?  Who  separated  the  '  light  from  the  darkness' 
which  brooded  over  the  revolving  chaos  ?  Who  gathered 
into  the  ocean's  bed  its  liquid  elements  ?"  And  if  plants,  ani- 
mals, man,  rose  successively  and   spontaneously  into  being, 


96 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


who  impregnated  the  materials  out  of  which  they  were  made 
with  their  mysterious  power,  and  who  superadded  the  instincts, 
the  affections,  the  thoughts,  the  aspirations  which  we  find  in 
man  ?  Go  back  as  far  as  we  will,  we  still  need  a  Power  to 
be^rin  the  work  of  creation.  From  an  eternal  succession  of 
secondary  causes  the  mind  instinctively  recoils.  It  finds  rest 
only  in  the  conviction  of  a  First  Cause,  and  from  that  convic- 
tion, whether  it  be  a  cause  collecting  all  its  creative  energies 
into  one  single  act  performed  millions  of  years  ago,  or  whether 
it  be  a  cause  manifesting  itself  from  time  to  time  before  its  in- 
telligent creatures  in  new  efforts,  it  is,  in  either  case,  a  convic- 
tion, without  which  our  views  of  the  universe  are  fraught  with 
darkness  and  confusion,  as  well  as  with  despair. 

Whatever  the  train  of  causes  and  effects,  then,  which  we 
trace,  whether  they  be  physical  or  psychological,  whether 
they  pertain  to  matter  or  to  mind,  to  unorganized  or  to  organ- 
ized substances,  they  tend  in  each  and  every  case  towards  the 
conception  of  a  Great  First  Cause.  And  I  need  hardly  add, 
that  these  different  lines  of  sequences  are  converging  lines, — 
they  point  towards  one  and  the  self-same  origin.  He  who 
produced  the  earth  and  its  atmosphere, — must  He  not  also 
have  created  the  plants  that  grow  upon  it,  the  animals  fitted 
with  organs  to  subsist  upon  those  plants,  the  lungs  that  re- 
spire air,  the  organs  of  articulation  and  of  hearing  that  make 
air  audible,  the  mental  faculties  by  which  language  is  rendered 
possible  to  man  ?  And  if  those  faculties  came  from  one  Being, 
then  why  not  all  other  mental  faculties,  since  all  others  are 
adjusted  to  these?  And  are  we  to  think  that  the  Being  who 
gave  such  faculties,  gave  them  for  no  purpose, — or  that  his 
purpose  could  be  other  than  "to  guide  and  elevate  man  in  his 
present  career,  and  prepare  him  for  another  state  of  being  to 
which  they  irresistibly  direct  his  hopes"?*  Thus  does  the 
argument  from  causation,  combined  with  that  from  final  causes, 


Whewell's  Philosophy  of  the  Tnthictive  Sciences,  v.  ii.  p.  164. 


EVENTS   CONSIDERED   AS  RELIGIOUS    TEACHERS. 


97 


conduct  us  at  once  to  the  notion  of  the  Divine  Unity  and  of 
man's  immortahty ! 

Here,  too,  we  employ,  in  respect  to  sequences  or  events, 
another  argument,  which,  in  the  last  chapter,  we  founded  on 
objects.  As  events  must  have  a  First  Cause,  so  the  character 
of  the  laws  which  regulate  them  indicates  the  character  of 
Him  in  whom  they  have  their  rise.  His  Wisdom,  Goodness, 
and  Power  have  been  so  often  referred  to  already,  and  are 
discussed  so  copiously  in  all  works  on  Natural  Theology,  that 
we  only  notice  here  another  class  of  attributes  too  apt  to  be 
overlooked.  We  mean  the  moral  attributes  of  the  Deity,  his 
Justice,  Veracity,  and  Holiness.  In  some  of  our  most  popular 
and  justly  valued  works — such  as  Paley — these  attributes  are 
not  even  touched  upon;  nor,  in  Paley 's  case,  perhaps,  is  it  sur- 
prising, since  a  philosopher  who  resolves  all  virtue,  in  man, 
into  utility,  can  hardly  avoid,  if  he  be  consistent,  resolving  all 
Holiness,  in  God,  into  Benevolence.  But  it  is  surprising  that 
writers  who  appreciate  the  independence  of  these  two  qualities 
in  our  own  nature,  and  who  distinctly  recognize  the  moral 
perfections  of  the  Deity,  should  have  dwelt  so  little  upon  the 
impressive  lessons  which  even  nature  teaches  respecting  the 
Holiness  of  Him  with  whom  we  have  to  do.  It  is  worthy  of 
remark  that  such  lessons  are  to  be  deduced  not  merely  from 
our  own  moral  constitution,  and  from  the  results  and  tendencies 
which  we  see  attached  to  different  courses  of  conduct  under 
his  providental  direction.  If  we  study  even  physical,  organic, 
and  intellectual  laws  with  reference  to  this  point,  we  shall  find 
that  they  too,  as  I  may  show  more  largely  hereafter,  point  dis- 
tinctly towards  a  moral  character  in  God,  and  admonish  us 
continually  that  this  God  has  declared  himself  the  friend  of 
Virtue, — the  unrelenting  enemy  of  Sin.  It  is  a  view  which 
needs  to  be  more  and  more  insisted  on,  in  proportion  as 
Natural  Science  engrosses  a  larger  share  of  attention.  The 
tendency  to  confound  God  and  Nature,  to  identify  Him  and 
the  energies  or  laws  through  which  He  acts, — a  tendency  to 

7 


^3  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


V 


which  the  human  mind  is  always  somewhat  subject,  and  which 
is  apt  to  be  strengthened  by  a  Philosophy  too  exclusively  in- 
ductive and  empirical, — this  will  be  increased  in  proportion  as 
the  moral  perfections  of  the  Deity  are  overlooked.  The  con- 
sideration of  these  is  needed  to  recall  us  to  a  deeper  sense  of 
the  Divine  Personality,  to  remind  us  of  our  own  spiritual  free- 
dom, and  to  warn  us  against  all  those  outward  influences 
which  war  upon  our  welfare,  obscuring  our  perceptions  of 
God  and  accountability,  and  quenching  our  aspirations  after  a 
better  and  nobler  life. 

We  have  thus  sketched  a  few  Illustrations  of  the  light  which 
Objects  and  Events,  properly  considered,  cast  upon  the  great 
truth  that  God  is,  and  that  He  is  the  rewarder  of  all  such  as 
diligently  .seek  Him.    To  attempt  to  fill  up  this  outline  will  be 
our  business  hereafter.     One  word,  in  closing,  on  the  use  and 
defects  of  Natural  Theology,  and  on  its  relations  to  the  Reli- 
gion of  the  Bible.     By  unfolding  the  wonderful  order  and  the 
benevolent  adaptations  which  are  more  and  more  evident  as 
Science  widens  our  view  of  nature,  the  Religion  of  Nature 
leads  us  to  recognize  more  distinctly  the  presence  and  Perfec- 
tion of  the  Creator.    When  we  see  how,  by  patient  observation 
and  induction.  Philosophers  succeed  in  grouping  a  vast  num- 
ber of  apparently  incongruous  facts  under  one  simple  principle. 
Natural  Theology  causes   us  to   raise   our  thoughts  to  that 
Presiding  Intelligence  which  has  thus  spread  harmony  over 
all  his  ways,  and  connected  by  indissoluble  bonds  bodies  and 
changes  the  most  remote  and  dissimilar.    And  when,  from  the 
contemplation  of  the  law,  we  turn  to  some  of  the  countless 
uses  to  which  it  can  be  applied,  when  these  various  uses  rise 
into  view,  and  we  sec  how  all  things  are  made  to  work  to- 
gether for  the   promotion   of  happiness  or  virtue,  here,  too, 
Natural  Theology  causes  us  to  look  with  thankful  and  adoring 
thoughts  to  Him  who  originally  ordered  and  now  sustains  a 
system  so  fraught  with  blessings. 

If  Science  is  mute  when  she  reaches  those  lofty  eminences 


EVENTS  CONSIDERED  AS  RELIGIOUS   TEACHERS.       gg 

whence  she  can  look  forth  on  all  comprehending  laws  and 
generalizations,  Natural  Theology  takes  up  the  strain,  and 
gives  it  a  higher  and  more  solemn  significance.  She  does  not 
suffer  us  to  dwell  on  the  constancy  of  these  laws  in  such  wise 
as  to  dream  that  it  results  from  mere  necessity.  She  does  not 
substitute  Nature  for  God,  an  unalterable  succession  for  the 
agency  of  Him  who  is  both  Creator  and  Ruler  of  the  universe. 
She  teaches  us,  with  Bacon,  that  we  ought  sooner  to  "receive 
all  the  fables  of  the  Legend  and  the  Talmud  than  to  believe 
that  this  universal  frame  is  without  a  mind."  That  though  "a 
little  Philosophy  may  incline  men's  minds  to  atheism,  yet 
depth  in  Philosophy  bringeth  men's  minds  about  again  to 
Religion ;  for  while  the  mind  of  man  looketh  upon  second 
causes  scattered,  it  may  sometimes  rest  in  them  and  go  no 
further ;  but  when  it  beholdeth  the  chain  of  them  confederate 
and  linked  together,  it  must  needs  fly  to  Providence  and  Deity." 
But  Natural  Theology  has  a  yet  higher  office.  "  Philoso- 
phy," says  Clement  of  Alexandria,  "was  to  the  Greeks  what 
the  Law  was  to  the  Hebrews.  It  was  a  schoolmaster  to 
bring  them  to  Christ."  If  this  can  be  said  of  Philosophy,  how 
much  more  of  Natural  Religion !  Teaching  us  the  existence 
and  superintending  agency  of  God,  it  teaches  us  also  that 
there  are  problems  in  respect  to  his  government  and  our  own 
destiny  which  are  of  infinite  moment,  but  which  no  oracle  in 
Nature's  Temple  can  adequately  solve.  It  teaches  us  that 
there  is  a  God  that  hideth  himself  With  the  Patriarch  of  old, 
we  would  find  Him,  we  would  come  even  to  his  seat,  we  would 
know  whether  He  still  looks  down  upon  us  with  a  Father's 
eye  and  heart.  Some  token  we  would  have,  from  that  dark 
immensity  over  which  we  hang,  that  we  are  not  forgotten  by 
the  Infinite  and  Eternal  Spirit,  that  we  are  not  left  to  be  the 
sport  or  unresisting  victims  of  inflexible  law ;  some  token 
that  amidst  all  the  dark  dispensations  of  life,  amidst  the  pros- 
perity of  the  wicked  and  the  triumph  of  the  ungodly,  there  is 
still  a  God  that  judgeth  the  earth,  and  that  He  is  an  unfailing 


lOO  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Refuge  to  all  who  trust  in  Him.  And  then,  when  the  moral 
eye  looks  inward,  when  we  contrast  what  we  are  with  what 
we  ought  to  be,  when  we  hear  the  deep  witness  of  our  own 
soul  that  God  is  just,  and  that  we  are  unjust,  do  not  the 
almost  agonizing  questions  rise,  Is  there  mercy  ?  Can  there 
be  mercy  for  such  as  wc  ?  And  to  these  questions,  what  has 
the  Religion  of  Nature  to  answer?  What  but  the  intiination 
of  a  hope  that  He  who  has  given  to  man  some  light  will  not 
withhold  more,  that  the  very  insufficiency  of  the  Revelation 
made  through  Nature  and  Providence  is  a  sort  of  pledge  that 
clearer  and  more  consoling  communications  are  in  reserve  for 
his  erring  children  ?  And  when,  with  these  words  of  doubtful 
promise,  the  inquirer  turns  towards  the  manger  of  Bethlehem, 
the  hill  of  Calvary,  the  rock  of  Joseph,  the  Mount  of  Olives; 
when  he  compares  the  instructions  of  Him  who  spake  as  never 
man  spake,  with  what  he  knows  already  of  God,  and  suspects 
of  immortality  and  judgment;  when  he  places  the  grace  that 
is  promised  and  the  grace  that  is  provided  beside  the  yearnings 
of  a  deathless  but  benighted  and  sin-stricken  spirit,  does  he 
not  know,  does  not  the  Religion  of  Nature  proclaim,  that  here 
is  a  Teacher  sent  from  God, — the  true  light  that  enlighteneth 
every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world  ? 


CHAPTER    IV. 
CRITICAL  DISCUSSIONS. 

IN  the  preceding  chapter  we  presented  the  Order  and  the 
Adaptations  that  prevail  among  Objects  and  Events,  as 
indicating  a  Creator  who  is  all-Powerful,  Wise,  and  Good.  In 
doing  so,  we  contravene  the  judgment  of  acute  and  able  men, 
some  of  whom  incline  to  Atheistic  or  Pantheistic  views,  while 
others  are  believers  in  Theism.  Their  objections,  then,  to  the 
Religious  Instruction  which  we  have  sought  to  draw  from 
these  sources,  we  shall  now  consider. 

We  shall  also  call  attention  to  views  respecting  the  con- 
stancy and  uniformity  of  Nature,  which  are  at  present  widely 
prevalent,  especially  among  students  of  Physical  Science,  and 
which,  in  our  estimation,  though  not  in  that  of  many  who  hold 
them,  are  inconsistent  with  any  intelligible  theory  of  Miracles 
and  Divine  Providence  on  the  one  hand,  or  with  the  existence 
of  natural  and  moral  evil,  and  of  moral  responsibility  in  man, 
on  the  other. 

We  first  consider  the  Skepticism  which  has  been  professed 
respecting  all  religious  convictions  which  are  founded  either 
on  Adaptations  or  on  Order. 

I.    ADAPTATIONS    OR    FINAL   CAUSES. 

This  Skepticism  in  regard  to  Adaptations*  would  be  less 

*  We  prefer  the  word  Adaptations  to  Design  or  Final  Causes,  though  the 
latter  are  more  commonly  used,  because  these  seem  to  assume  the  very  point  in 
dispute,  which  is,  whether  there  be  in  the  constitution  of  Nature  and  Man  clear 
evidences  of  Design,  i.e.  of  such  Design  as  implies  a  Personal  Designer.  The 
language  of  Paley,  "Contrivance  proves  Design,"  and  "  where  there  is  design 
there  must  be  a  designer,"  appears  to  be  loose  and  exceptionable. 

(lOl) 


I02  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

frequent  if  it  were  considered  that  the  religious  Indications, 
or,  speaking  loosely,  the  teleological  arguments  which  they  are 
held  to  supply,  are  not  evolved  as  strict  logical  conclusions 
from  the  mere  consideration  of  means  and  ends.  The  idea  of 
an  Intelligent  Cause  seems  to  be  an  intuitive  suggestion  of 
the  mind  when  these  adaptations  are  observed ;  and  it  has 
been  aptly  compared  to  our  instinctive  interpretation  of  natural 
signs.  As  when  we  hear  certain  cries,  or  see  certain  gestures  of 
an  animal,  we  infer  the  feelings  which  prompted  them  ;  or  as, 
when  we  observe  sequences,  a  belief  in  their  constancy  is  one  of 
the  necessary  laws  or  conditions  of  thought ;  or  as,  when  we  see 
certain  actions  of  free  deliberative  agents,  we  inevitably  attach 
to  them  the  notion  of  being  right  or  wrong  ;  so,  when  we 
observe  these  adaptations,  in  matter  or  mind,  we  uncon- 
sciously assume  for  them  a  higher  than  any  natural  cause. 
The  assumption  seems  to  be  a  necessary  complement  to  the 
facts  observed  and  their  proper  key.  It  is  only  through  ex- 
perience that  we  learn  to  distinguish  accurately  adaptations 
which  can  be  ascribed  to  man's  contrivance,  from  those  which 
claim  a  Divine  or  Supernatural  origin. 

The  objection  to  what  is  commonly  called  the  argument 
from  final  causes,  has  been  stated  in  various  forms.  We  notice 
a  few  of  them.  It  will  be  found  that  such  objections  generally 
assume  some  theory  of  the  origin  and  the  limitation  of  human 
knowledge,  and  that  they  are  important  or  tenable  only  on 
the  supposition  of  the  truth  of  that  theory. 

Thus,  admit  that  all  our  knowledge  is  confined,  as  is  as- 
serted by  the  Positivist  and  Sensationalist,  to  phenomena, 
and  then,  of  course,  of  whatever  lies  beyond  the  phenomenal, 
whether  it  be  substance  or  cause,  powers  in  nature  or  a 
power  above  nature,  we  can  affirm  nothing.  Or  again,  as- 
sume, as  many  do  who  adopt  the  opposite  system  (idealism), 
that  such  an  arbitrary  limitation  of  our  knowledge  is  of  the 
very  essence  of  all  Inductive  Philosophy;  that  this  philosophy 
.must  assume  that  the  constancy  of  natural  laws  is  absolutely 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  jq^ 

unalterable,  and  that  they  leave,  therefore,  no  room  for  super- 
natural intervention,  and  in  that  case  we  are  equally  shut  up 
to  the  conclusion  that  Induction  can  give  no  support  to  the 
Religion  of  Nature.  It  is  on  suppositions  like  these  that  most 
of  the  objections  to  that  Religious  Philosophy  which  is  sup- 
ported by  the  progress  of  the  Inductive  sciences  will  be 
found  to  rest. 

Theological  proofs  or  illustrations,  when  properly  guarded, 
are  rarely  called  in  question  by  unsophisticated  minds.  To 
such  they  commend  themselves  with  a  clearness  and  a 
strength  which  seems  to  belong  to  no  other  kind  of  evidence. 
The  hostile  criticisms  to  which  they  have  been  subjected  are 
the  offspring,  as  we  have  just  said,  of  certain  metaphysical 
assumptions.  Sometimes,  however,  they  may  be  traced,  not 
so  much  to  the  adoption  of  a  false  philosophy  as  to  a  desire 
to  subject  it  to  the  severest  of  logical  tests,  inasmuch  as  any 
theory  from  which  we  can  legitimately  deduce  Atheistic  con- 
clusions, demonstrates  its  incapacity  to  solve  the  problems 
that  are  presented  by  the  constitution  and  necessary  opera- 
tions of  the  human  mind.  By  some  this  is  supposed  to  have 
been  the  object  of  Hume,  the  most  intrepid  and  acute  of  all 
modern  skeptics.  It  is  by  no  means  certain  that  Hume  him- 
self held  that  there  was  no  room  for  religious  convictions. 
On  the  contrary,  there  seems  good  reason  to  think  that  his 
skeptical  speculations  were  intended  to  demonstrate,  by  a 
rednctio  ad  absnrdnvi,  the  utter  insufficiency  of  a  philosophy 
which  assigns  an  exclusive  place  to  the  external  world  in  the 
origin  of  our  knowledge,  and  overlooks  those  primary  con- 
victions and  impressible  laws  of  thought  which  give  form  to 
the  matter  of  our  experience.     But  enough  of  this  at'present. 

Says  Cicero,  "  If  any  one  were  to  carry  to  Scythia,  or  to 
Britain,  that  artificial  sphere  which  our  friend  Posidonius  lately 
made,  each  revolution  of  which  represents  the  same  changes 
in  the  sun,  moon,  and  five  wandering  stars  (or  planets)  that 
are  observed  to  take  place  every  day  and  night  in  the  heavens, 


jQ.  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

who  among  those  barbarians  would  doubt  that  this  sphere 
had  been  contrived  and  perfected  by  intelligence  ?  Yet  there 
are  persons  who  doubt,  respecting  the  world,  whence  it  and 
all  that  it  contains  came;  whether  it  arose  from  chance  or 
by  some  necessity,  or  whether  it  sprang  from  reason  and  a 
Divine  Intelligence;  and  they  seem  to  think  that  more  was  ac- 
complished by  Archimedes  when  he  imitated  the  rollings  of 
the  celestial  sphere,  than  was  accomplished  in  the  creation  or 
constitution  of  Nature." 

To  this  kind  of  reasoning  it  is  objected — ist.  That  fitness 
or  tendency  to  a  specific  end  does  not  necessarily  imply  de- 
sign, since,  in  man's  workmanship,  a  tool  or  a  structure  often 
subserves  purposes  not  foreseen  by  him  who  made  it.  This 
is  quite  true.  But  if  the  means  are  various,  and  yet  iiide- 
pendcnt  of  each  other,  and  if  all  are  found  concurring  with 
entire  precision  towards  one  and  the  same  desirable  end,^  then 
the  inference  of  an  intelligent  personal  designer  seems  inevita- 
ble. Thus,  in  the  artificial  globe  mentioned  by  Cicero,  we 
assume  design  as  its  origin,  not  because  a  representation  of 
the  heavens  at  any  one  moment  is  given  by  it,  for  that  might 
be  given  by  a  common  mirror,  or  by  a  sheet  of  tranquil 
water,  but  because  the  changes  in  the  heavens  are  also 
delineated;  and  because,  to  effect  this,  different  substances,  me- 
tallic and  wooden,  are  brought  together  of  such  different  sizes, 
figures,  and  descriptions  as  could  alone  produce  the  effect,  and 
which  have,  in  themselves,  no  necessary  relation  or  dependence. 

2d.  It  is  objected,  again,  that  this  adaptation  of  means  to 
ends  proves  nothing  more  than  the  instinctive  workings  of  an 
intelligence  without  personality  or  self-consciousness  ;  that 
"the  highest  divinity  of  the  naturalists  is  the  adaptive  plastic 
power  of  nature,  which  may  be  regarded  not  only  as  distinct 
from  the  true  God,  but  as  inferior  in  spiritual  dignity  to  the 
rational  soul  of  man,  though  far  surpassing  it  in  power  and  in 


*  Dr.  James  McCosh. 


CRITICAL    DISCUSSIONS.  Iqc 

the  unerring  skill  of  its  instinctive  workings."  The  writer* 
from  whom  we  quote  these  lines  adds,  "  Nature  alone  cannot 
prove  the  existence  of  a  Deity  possessed  of  moral  attributes." 
Much  of  the  force  of  this  objection  falls  when  we  dis- 
cover that,  as  urged  by  him,  by  Coleridge,  and  by  others,  it 
applies  only  to  Physico-Theology ,  and  that  they  recognize  the 
value  and  authority  of  the  evidence  which  we  derive  from  the 
constitutioji  and  operations  of  the  liunian  mind.  But,  even  as 
directed  against  the  adaptations  observed  in  the  material 
world,  the  objection,  though  sanctioned  by  such  honored 
names,  strikes  me  as  futile.  It  is  an  attempt  to  reduce  the  indi- 
cations of  design  in  the  physical  universe  to  a  level  with  those 
which  we  observe  in  the  structures  of  the  Bee  or  the  Beaver. 
But  when  we  look  at  those  structures,  we  never  think  of  the 
unerring  skill  and  ingenuity  displayed,  as  if  they  were  the 
fruits  of  a  voluntary  and  deliberative  intelligence  on  the  part  of 
the  animal.  We  look  beyond  him  to  One  who  formed  him, 
with  his  wonderful  instincts,  and  who  uses  him  merely  as  an 
unconscious  or  half-conscious  instrument.  But  when  we  look 
at  man,  rearing  an  edifice  for  his  own  habitation,  or  for  some 
other  definite  purpose,  we  recognize  at  once  the  distinctive 
mark  of  a  free  but  at  the  same  time  finite  and  fallible  intel- 
ligence. And,  on  the  same  principle,  when  we  look  at  natu- 
ral laws  without  us,  or  at  the  framework  of  our  bodies  and  the 
marvelous  structure  of  our  minds,  we  discern  the  indications 
of  a  free  but  unerring  Intelligence, — one  that  works  not  by 
necessity  but  by  deliberation  and  choice, — whose  plans  have 
been  selected  with  a  deliberate  purpose, — not  imposed  by  a 
surd  and  inflexible  fatality. 

3d.  Analogous  to  the  objection  last  mentioned  is  one  which 
is  thus  stated  by  Mr.  George  Combe :  "  The  examination  of 
a  watch  leads  us  to  infer  a  watchmaker ;  but  it  cannot  answer 
the  further  question,  who  made  the  watchmaker."     In  other 

*  Dr.  Tayler  Lewis. 


I06  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

words,  if  from  considering  the  world  we  infer  a  world-maker, 
why  not,  from  considering  that  world-maker,  raise  the  further 
question  by  whom  he  was  made  ?  The  answer  is  obvious. 
We  reach  the  conception  of  a  self-existent  and  Infinite  First 
Cause  not  from  adaptations  alone.  Thus  it  has  already  been 
shown  that  from  the  one  simple  fact  that  something  exists, 
we  are  carried,  by  necessary  inference,  to  the  conclusion  that 
something  has  always  existed, — that  this  something  is  an  im- 
material and  independent  Being, — that  He  is  self-existent,  in- 
finite, and  omnipresent,  and  is  the  original  cause  of  all  things. 
To  the  same  conception  the  human  mind  seems  to  be  carried 
by  other  and  still  shorter  routes  ;  and  it  is  by  observing  the 
indications  of  free  Intelligence  with  which  the  world  is 
crowded  that  we  come  to  identify  its  Maker  with  the  self- 
existent  and  Infinite  Being  who  is  conceived  of  on  other  and 
independent  grounds. 

4th.  Mr.  Hume  objects  that  the  theistic  argument,  from 
final  causes,  assumes  an  analogy  between  the  world  and  the 
workmanship  of  man,  for  which  there  is  no  adequate  founda- 
tion: "  If  we  see  a  house,  we  conclude  it  had  an  architect, 
because  this  is  precisely  that  species  of  effect  which  we  have 
experienced  to  proceed  from  that  species  of  cause.  Wwl 
surely  you  will  not  affirm  that  the  universe  bears  such  a  re- 
semblance to  a  house  that  we  can,  with  the  same  certainty, 
infer  a  similar  cause  for  it,  or  that  the  analogy  is  here  perfect?" 
He  would  imply,  that  in  the  case  of  the  house,  we  know  both 
that  there  was  a  builder  competent  to  make  it,  and  also  that  it 
had  a  beginning,  whereas  we  know  neither  of  these  things  in 
respect  to  the  world.  We  reply,  ist,  that  Geology,  Astron- 
omy, and  Archaeology  do  demonstrate,  in  the  clearest  manner, 
that  the  present  state  of  the  world  had  a  beginning  in  time, 
and  that  no  adequate  natural  cause  can  be  assigned  for  its 
origin.  We  remark.  2d,  that  while  a  house  differs  from  the 
universe  in  some  respects,  it  does  not  differ  from  it  in  those 
which  are  essential  to  the  argument.     Both  exhibit  in  their 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  JO7 

materials  and  in  the  form  and  collocation  of  those  materials, 
congruities  and  adaptations  in  respect  as  well  to  their  different 
parts — when  considered  by  themselves — as  to  some  definite 
purpose  which  they  are  to  answer  as  wholes;  and  in  each  case 
these  congruities  and  adaptations  irresistibly  suggest  the  idea 
of  an  intelligent  Author  or  Designer, — the  intelligence  mani- 
fested in  man's  workmanship  being  as  inferior  to  that  displayed 
in  the  constitution  of  the  universe,  as  the  extent  of  that  work- 
manship is  inferior  to  an  immensity  which  the  Heaven  of 
Heavens  cannot  contain. 


II.    ORDER   AND    UNIFORMITY    IN    SEQUENCES,  AS    EXPLAINED    BY 

UNBELIEVERS. 

Speaking  of  the  orderly  succession  of  events  in  the  natural 
world,  Cicero  remarks:  "Whosoever  supposes  this  to  have 
sprung  from  chance,  I  see  not  why  such  an  one  should  not 
believe  that  if  innumerable  specimens  of  the  several  letters  in 
the  alphabet  be  thrown  together  and  shaken  up  they  might 
not  be  found  at  length  arranged  in  such  order  as  to  give  us, 
word  for  word,  the  whole  annals  of  Ennius ;  whereas  I  doubt 
whether  such  could  be  the  case  with  a  single  line  or  verse." 
In  other  words,  wherever  we  find  order  and  regularity  obtain- 
ing, either  uniformly,  or  in  a  vast  majority  of  instances,  and 
where  at  the  same  time  the  possibilities  of  disorder  are  indefi- 
nitely numerous, — we  are  justified  in  inferring  from  this  fact 
an  intelligent  cause.. 

The  skeptic  will  tell  us,  however,  that  he  does  not  ascribe 
this  order  and  regularity  to  chance,  but  to  the  inherent  and 
essential  stability  of  an  eternal  self-subsisting  economy;  that 
the  possibilities  of  disorder  which  we  have  assumed  are 
imaginary,  because  '"matter,"  to  borrow  the  language  of  Sir 
William  Drummond,*  "  is  always  obedient  to  the  laws  of  its 
own  being."     To  the  same  effect  is  the  language  of  an  able 

*  Academical  Questions. 


iq8  the  three  witnesses. 

French   cotemporary  :*    "  To   minds   unacquainted  with    the 
study  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  though  often  well  informed  in 
other  branches  of  Natural  Philosophy,  Astronomy  has  still 
the   reputation  of  being  a  science   eminently   religious,  as   if 
the  famous  verse,  the  hcavois  declare  the  glory  of  God,  had  pre- 
served all  its  force.     It  is,  however,  certain,  as  I  have  proved, 
that  all  real  science  stands  in  radical  and  necessary  opposition 
to  all  theology  ;t  and  this  character  of  opposition  between  all 
science  and  all  theology  is  more  strongly  indicated  in  Astron- 
omy than  in  any  other;  precisely  because  Astronomy  is,  so  to 
speak,  more  a  science  than  any  other  science.     By  the  devel- 
opment of  the  true  celestial  mechanics  since  the  time  of  New- 
ton, all  Theological  philosophy,  even  the  most  perfect,  has 
been  thenceforth  deprived  of  its  principal  intellectual  office ; 
the  most  regular  order  being  now  conceived  as  necessarily  es- 
tablished and  kept  up  in  our  world — and  even  throughout  the 
whole  universe — by  the  simple  mutual  attraction  of  its  differ- 
ent parts," — as  though  this  attraction  and  the  collocation  of 
these  parts  did  not  need  to  be  accounted  for  as  well  as  the 
order  they  produce.     "At  present,"  he  adds  in  a  note, — as  if 
bent  on  signalizing  the  boldness  of  his  unbelief, — ^"  to  minds 
that  have  been  early  familiarized  with  the  true  Astronomical 
philosophy,  the  heavens  declare  no  other  glory  than  that  of 
Hipparchus,  Kepler,  Newton,  and  all  those  who  have  contrib- 
uted to  the  establishment  of  their  laws." 

This  doctrine  we  cannot  proceed  to  discuss  without  placing 
by  the  side  of  the  passage  here  quoted  another  almost  the 


*  M.  Comte. 

|-  This  proof  seems  to  be  that  when  we  have  reached  by  induction  a  great 
principle  like  gravitation,  we  have  no  right  to  inquire  nor  even  to  think  (as  if  the 
human  mind  could  help  doing  it !)  about  its  nature  or  generating  causes  ;  but  must 
take  it  for  granted  that  these  are  questions  incapable  of  solution,  without  the 
domain  of  philosophy,  and  to  be  abandoned,  therefore,  to  the  imagination  of  theo- 
logical speculators  or  to  the  subtleties  of  metaphysicians. 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


109 


same  in  principle  though  opposite  in  its  origin.  It  affords 
another  example  of  the  manner  in  which  minds  holding  the 
most  extreme  and  antagonistic  opinions  often  agree  in  respect 
to  fundamental  principles.  Comte,  an  Atheist,  proclaims  that 
Inductive  Philosophy  can  see  nothing  in  Nature  but  an  order 
necessarily  established ;  and  the  same  sentiment — we  had  al- 
most said  the  same  language — is  employed  not  only  by  distin- 
guished Christian  writers,  but  even  by  advocates  of  a  high 
spiritual  philosophy. 

In  their  zeal  against  what  they  regard  as  a  sensualizing  pro- 
cess of  the  reason,  and  in  their  anxiety  to  substitute  some- 
thing in  place  of  argument  as  the  basis  of  religious  faith,  they 
often  express  themselves  in  this  wise  :  "  Inductive  pliilosopJiy 
must  assiune  as  one  of  its  leading  axioms  that  what  it  styles 
natural  laws  have  ever  been  the  same,  both  in  the  kind  and 
degree  of  their  action,  operating  in  virtue  of  an  inherent  power, 
and  not  liable  to  be  modified,  hastened,  or  retarded  by  the 
supernatural." 

Stated  briefly,  these  objections  seem  to  amount  to  this,  that 
Inductive  philosophy  presupposes  the  absolute  constancy  and 
stability  of  nature,  and  that  it  is  therefore  unphilosophical  to 
infer  that  things  were  ever  otherwise  than  as  at  present ;  or,  in 
other  words,  that  they  have  had  a  beginning  or  author  ;  that 
the  province  of  this  philosophy  is  merely  to  establish  what  is, 
i.e.  what  are  the  phenomena  and  their  relations,  and  that  the 
idea,  therefore,  of  anything  above  or  beyond  nature  is  irrele- 
vant and  preposterous. 

To  this  we  reply — ist.  That  when  we  take  for  granted  that 
phenomena  and  the  relations  of  such  phenomena  among  them- 
selves form  the  only  proper  objects  of  Philosophy — that  to 
nothing  else  can  we  with  propriety  ascribe  an  objective  re- 
ality— we  transgress  the  limits  of  legitimate  assumption.  To 
us  it  seems  clear  that  the  human  mind  is  so  constituted  that 
it  cannot  but  look  beyond  sensations  which  it  feels,  to  the  ex- 
ternal causes  of  those  sensations, — beyond  thoughts  and  emo- 


no  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

tions  of  which  it  is  conscious  to  the  sentient  power,  principle, 
or  person  that  originated  them, — beyond  attributes  to  sub- 
stances, beyond  events  succeeding  each  other  in  time  to  an 
Eternal,  self-subsisting  Cause.  And  does  not  a  like  mental 
necessity  constrain  us  to  recognize  personality  in  ourselves 
and  others,  and  to  ascend  from  personality  finite  and  dependent 
to  personality  which  is  infinite  and  independent?  The  Induc- 
tive Philosopher,  while  intently  occupied  in  observing  facts,  in 
comparing  and  reasoning  upon  them,  in  educing  from  them 
general  laws,  may  not  pause  to  analyze  or  even  notice  these 
notions  ;  but  does  he  not  assume  them  to  be  real  and  indis- 
pensable,— essential  parts  of  his  mental  furniture  and  necessary 
elements  in  all  high  Philosophy?  In  maintaining,  then,  or 
rather  in  assuming  that  Inductive  science  excludes  from  its 
domains  all  but  the  phenomenal,  the  objector  begs  the  very 
point  in  debate.  He  achieves,  by  arbitrary  definition  and  lim- 
itation, that  expulsion  of  theology  from  the  field  of  Inductive 
inquiry  which  he  could  have  fairly  accomplished  only  by  clear 
and  conclusive  reasoning. 

2d.  We  observe,  again,  that  the  stability  which  is  properly 
assumed,  in  all  inductive  inquiries  as  pertaining  to  nature,  is 
not  absolute  but  contingent;  that  our  anticipation  of  the  re- 
currence of  phenomena,  in  a  constant  order,  is  predicated  upon 
the  condition  that  only  the  same  causes  and  circumstances 
continue  to  operate,  and  therefore  necessarily  involves  the  idea 
that  with  new  causes  new  phenomena  might  arise, — such  as 
the  termination  of  the  system  on  the  one  hand,  or  if  we  go  back 
in  time,  its  commencement  or  creation  on  the  other.  If  there 
be  ground,  then,  for  the  presumptive  belief  that  other  causes 
or  the  same  causes,  with  other  intensities  competent  to  origi- 
nate or  destroy  the  system,  do  exist  or  have  existed,  then  in- 
ductive philosophy,  so  far  from  repudiating  the  presumption, 
imperatively  requires  that  we  should  investigate  the  evidence 
on  which  it  rests,  and  especially  that  we  should  inquire  whether 
Nature  and  Man,  considered  together,  do  not  contain  within 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


Ill 


themselves  indications  of  one  great  cause  and  of  its  creative 
or  destroying  energy. 

Now  we  have  ah^eady  pointed  to  facts  such  as  the  universal 
belief  among  mankind  in  an  intelligent  first  Cause, — the  be- 
nign moral  influence  of  that  belief  on  individuals  and  on  na- 
tions,— and  the  instinctive  resort  to  it  of  the  human  mind  on 
great  emergencies,  whether  of  speculation  or  of  action.  We 
have  also  pointed  to  phenomena  which  seem  to  show  clearly 
that  the  course  of  nature  has  not  been  always  what  it  now  is, 
and  which  render  it  at  least  highly  probable  that  supernatural 
causes  have  been  at  work.  These  facts  go  to  establish  the 
strongest  presumption — independent  of  other  evidence — that 
there  is  a  great  First  Cause,  the  Author  of  Nature,  and  there- 
fore supernatural.  When,  then,  we  turn  to  the  examination 
of  Nature  (material  or  immaterial),  we  are  not  shut  up  to  the 
exclusive  survey  of  her  phenomena  in  their  present  order  and 
constancy.  We  come  with  the  anterior  idea  of  an  all-power- 
ful Being,  able  to  originate,  suspend,  or  terminate  all  existing 
systems,  and  we  ask  whether  those  systems  furnish  any  tokens 
of  his  existence  and  agency. 

3d.  But  the  skeptic  still  insists  that  it  is  unreasonable  to 
ascribe  this  order  and  constancy  in  nature  to  an  Almighty  and 
Intelligent  Author,  since  the  fact  suggests  its  own  most  nat- 
ural explanation,  which  is,  that  events  and  objects  have  thus 
followed  each  other  in  one  constant  series  through  all  past 
eternity,  and  that  they  are  destined  to  continue  so  forever.  If 
this  hypothesis  of  an  eternal  series  be  consistent  with  reason, 
and  if  it  will  explain  the  facts,  to  resort  to  the  idea  of  a  Personal, 
self-existent  Creator  for  that  purpose  is,  of  course,  gratuitous 
and  therefore  unphilosophical. 

Now  in  respect  to  this  theory,  which  has  had  more  or  less 
of  currency  since  the  time  of  Democritus,  we  may  remark — 
I.  That  were  it  admitted  it  would  only  explain  the  uniformity 
of  sequences  in  nature,  affording  no  solution  of  those  innumer- 
able collocations  and  adaptations  which  are  vastly  more  strik- 


112  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

ing,  both  in  themselves  and  as  evidences  of  design.  2.  That 
the  hypothesis  of  an  eternal  self-subsisting  system  of  objects 
and  sequences  involves  some  of  the  very  difficulties  on 
account  of  which  the  idea  of  an  infinite  and  Supreme  Being  is 
rejected.  The  skeptic  repudiates  the  notion  of  a  First  Cause, 
in  part,  because  he  cannot,  he  says,  conceive  of  an  Infinite 
Being, — and  what  does  he  accept  as  a  substitute  ?  He  accepts 
that  which  comprehends  Infinity  in  the  several  senses  of  infi- 
nite number,  infinite  space,  and  infinite  duration.  3.  But  we 
observe  further,  and  more  particularly,  that  this  hypothesis 
is  self-contradictory.  To  predicate  that  of  each  part  which 
you  deny  of  the  whole,  or  to  affirm  of  a  whole  series  what 
you  deny  of  each  individual  term,  seems  clearly  absurd,  and 
yet  this  is  done  by  him  who  pleads  for  an  eternal  succession 
of  finite  beings.  Every  particular  being  in  the  series,  upon 
the  supposition,  depends  upon  a  preceding  one  ;  and  yet 
the  whole  depends  upon  nothing.  "The  difficulty  of  sup- 
posing a  being  beginning  to  exist  without  a  cause  is  not  at 
all  lessened  by  supposing  an  eternal  succession  of  such  beings, 
— for  unless  there  be  some  first  Being,  on  whom  all  the  rest 
depend,  it  is  evident  that  the  whole  series  hang  upon  nothing, 
which  is  altogether  as  impossible  as  that  any  one  in  particular 
should.  Hence  it  is  evident  there  must  always  have  been  one 
intelligent  being,  whose  existence  is  uncaused  and  absolutely 
eternal,  unchangeable,  and  independent."* 

4th.  Waving  such  objections,  however,  we  aver  that  the  hy- 
pothesis of  an  eternal  succession  of  the  finite  beings  and  phe- 
nomena we  now  observe  on  the  earth  is  at  variance  with  moral 
and  physical  facts  of  the  most  unquestionable  nature.  His- 
tory conducts  us  back  but  a  few  centuries  before  we  come  to 
the  infancy — the  very  cradle — of  all  the  art,  science,  and  civil- 
ization among  mankind ;  and  is  it  conceivable  that  this  our 
race  could  have  subsisted  on  the  earth  for  millions  on  millions 

*  Robert  Hall. 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  I  j  , 

of  years,  having  all  the  while  the  same  thirst  for  improvement 
and  the  same  boundless  capabilities  for  it  too,  and  yet  have 
all  the  while  remained  stationary, — never  rousing  itself  from 
its  stupor  till  during  this  last  brief  period,  and  throwing  into 
this  insignificant  fraction  of  its  existence  all  its  mighty  efforts 
after  progress  and  amelioration?  But  there  is  a  physical  fact 
yet  more  decisive.  Geology  conducts  us  backward  through 
successive  revolutions  on  the  surface  of  our  globe,  and  soon 
reaches  a  period  when  man  did  not  dwell  upon  it.  Then,  in 
its  ascent  along  the  mighty  tracts  of  geological  time,  it  attains 
to  other  and  remoter  periods,  when  one  and  another  species 
of  terrestrial  animals  first  started  into  being  ;  and  independent 
of  supernatural  means  no  hypothesis  has  yet  been  suggested 
which  can  account  adequately  for  this  introduction  of  success- 
ive orders  of  living  beings  at  vast  intervals  —  those  orders 
rising  one  above  another.  And  even  if  such  an  hypothesis 
could  be  suggested, — if  we  can  suppose  that  these  successive 
races  of  plants  and  animals  rose  spontaneously  into  life, — still, 
as  we  retrace  the  series  and  go  from  orders  more  perfect  to 
those  less  so,  from  man  to  mammalia,  from  mammalia  to  rep- 
tiles, from  animals  to  vegetables,  from  vegetables  to  a  still 
earlier  period  when  there  was  no  living  thing  upon  the  earth, 
plant,  or  insect,  or  fish, — and  from  this  again  to  one  when  all 
seems  to  have  been  darkness  and  chaos, — do  we  not  see  that 
we  approach  all  the  while  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  beginning 
of  the  system, — to  the  great  and  eventful  epoch  when  Creative 
orginating  Power — even  God — was  needed?  Astronomy  gives 
evidence  of  the  same  great  fact  {i.e.  the  limited  existence  of 
our  globe  and  system)  in  the  spheroidal  figure  of  the  earth, 
in  the  existence  of  a  resisting  medium  through  which  the 
planets  seem  to  move,  and  in  the  appearance  of  new  and  the 
disappearance  of  old  stars  in  the  sidereal  firmament.  Thus 
the  figment  of  an  eternal  succession  of  beings,  whether  ani- 
mal or  vegetable,  is  shown  to  be  as  inconsistent  with  observed 
facts  as  it  is  incongruous  with  reason. 

8 


114 


THE    THREE    IVITNESSES. 


III.    ORDER  AND  UNIFORMITY    IN  SEQUENCES  AS   MISAPPREHENDED 

BY    BELIEVERS. 

Theory  of  Miracles. 

In  considering  the  uniformity  which  characterizes  material 
and  mental  phenomena,  a  grave  question  presents  itself.  Is  it, 
on  the  one  hand,  absolutely  constant,  in  all  its  parts  and  details, 
as  well  as  in  its  main  features,  not  liable  to  be  interrupted  by 
man  in  the  exercise  of  a  self-determining  power, — not  subject 
to  suspension  or  deviation  through  the  miraculous  or  provi- 
dential agency  of  God, — not  marred  by  any  existing  disorders 
or  irregularities,  but  perfect,  and  destined  to  be  eternal  ?  Or, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  it  a  law  of  uniformity,  subject  to  some 
exceptions  and  irregularities, — liable  to  be  set  aside  by  the  su- 
pernatural agency  of  God,  whether  miraculous  or  providen- 
tial, and  liable  also  to  be  modified,  and,  in  some  sense,  disturbed 
by  the  free  moral  agency  of  man? 

We  have  spoken  of  this  as  a  great  question.  It  is,  in  truth, 
the  one  question  which  includes  within  itself  almost  all  the 
deepest  problems  of  our  being, — problems  which,  in  one  or 
another  form,  have  tasked,  and,  we  might  perhaps  add,  have 
hitherto  defied,  the  sagacity  of  the  most  eminent  metaphysi- 
cians and  theologians.  We  are  not  so  presumptuous  as  to 
suppose  that  we  can  cast  new  light  upon  them.  When  Mil- 
ton describes  his  fallen  angels  waiting  the  return  of  their  great 
leader  from  his  excursion  to  find  the  new-created  earth,  he  rep- 
resents them  as  whiling  away  the  tedious  hours,  some  in  heroic 
games,  some  in  wild  and  terrible  sports,  some  in  song,  and 
some  in  philosophical  musings  and  disputations.     These  last 

"  Apart  sat  on  a  hill  retired, 
In  thoughts  more  elevate,  and  reasoned  high 
Of  Providence,  foreknowledge,  will,  and  fate, 
Fixed  fate,  free  will,  foreknowledge  absolute, 
And  found  no  end  in  wandering  mazes  lost." 


CRITICAL    DISCUSSIONS. 


115 


Milton  understood  well  the  connection  which  these  several 
questions  have  with  each  other,  and  with  the  still  more  com- 
prehensive one  which  we  have  stated,  and  he  doubtless  in- 
tended to  place  on  record  his  conviction  that  they  are  ques- 
tions which  transcend  the  utmost  reach  of  man's  powers  in  his 
present  state,  and  are  destined,  perhaps,  to  transcend  them  for- 
ever; for  truly  none  but  an  omniscient  mind  would  seem 
adequate  to  their  full  solution.  We  touch  upon  them, — not 
because  we  have  the  presumption  to  imagine  that  we  can  offer 
a  satisfactory  solution,  but  because  a  solution  has  been  vir- 
tually assumed,  in  some  of  the  current  science  of  the  day,  and 
has  been  made  the  basis  of  some  of  the  arguments  in  favor 
of  natural  Theology.  The  bearings  of  this  subject  on  meta- 
physical theology  and  on  general  philosophy  we  do  not  pro- 
pose to  examine,  but  merely  its  connection  with  science  as 
founded  in  Induction,  and  with  the  use  of  science  as  an  aux- 
iliary and  handmaid  of  Natural  Religion.  Considered  in  this 
point  of  view  it  is  not  a  controversy  between  the  theist  and 
the  atheist — between  the  skeptic  and  the  believer.  The  phi- 
losophy which  would  resolve  the  order  of  nature  into  a  self- 
subsisting  necessity  we  have  already  considered.  The  phi- 
losophy which  we  have  now  to  examine  would  resolve  it  into 
a  necessity  established  by  God, — recognizing  Him  as  the  author 
and  establisher  of  the  system,  but  as  governing  it  exclusively 
by  means  of  unalterable  laws  and  agencies, — laws  which  contain 
within  themselves  the  principle  of  self-perpetuation  and  self- 
development,  or  which  admit  Divine  agency  only  when  ex- 
erted in  obedience  to  those  laws.  It  is  the  grand  question 
between  the  physical  and  the  moral  under  a  new  phase,  and 
also  between  the  natural  and  the  supernatural. 

In  one  respect  the  doctrine  which  we  have  now  to  examine 
differs  materially  from  that  view  of  philosophical  necessity 
which  has  been  expounded  and  maintained  by  Christian 
writers.  Edwards,  for  example,  in  his  masterly  work  on  the 
Will,  while  he  denies  the  ability  of  man  to  interfere  with  the 


Il6  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

established  relations  between  cause  and  effect, — between  mo- 
tive and  volition, — constantly  recognizes  the  idea  of  a  provi- 
dential and  supernatural  intervention  on  the  part  of  God.  But 
the  scientific  writers  to  whom  we  refer  go  much  further.  They 
maintain  a  constancy  in  nature  which,  as  we  have  said,  seems 
to  be  inconsistent  with  any  intelligible  theory  either  of  mira- 
cles or  of  a  superintending  Providence,  while  it  leaves  no 
room  for  liberty  in  man  or  for  evil  (physical  or  moral)  in  the 
world.  Indeed,  with  the  deepest  respect  for  the  learning, 
ability,  and  moral  worth  of  some  of  them,  we  find  it  difficult 
to  draw  any  line  of  distinction  between  their  views  and  those 
of  the  Pantheist  or  Atheist.  We  do  not  doubt  in  the  least 
the  sincerity  of  their  religious  faith  ;  we  appreciate  fully  the 
injustice  of  charging  a  theory  with  all  the  odious  conse- 
quences that  may  be  deduced  from  it ;  and  we  know  well  how 
easy  it  is  to  hold  speculative  errors  which  may  be  innocuous 
to  their  immediate  authors  and  advocates,  though  not  harm- 
less to  those  who  adopt  them  as  practical  convictions.  Yet 
we  must  be  excused  from  adding — for  it  is  a  truth  attested  by 
long  experience — that  these  exaggerated  views  of  the  con- 
stancy and  inviolable  regularity  of  natural  sequences  find  their 
most  earnest  and  most  numerous  advocates  among  the  skep- 
tics; and  that  skepticism  and  fatalism  seem  to  be  their  legitimate 
results. 

We  have  just  intimated  that  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  be- 
tween the  views  of  some  of  these  writers  and  those  held  by 
Pantheists.  Spinoza  denies  that  there  are  or  can  be  any  dis- 
orders in  the  universe.  To  suppose  that  the  being  and  attri- 
butes of  God  can  be  better  discovered  by  the  disorder  than  by 
the  order  of  nature,  he  thinks  is  foolish  ;  and  he  accordingly 
maintains  that  "  miracles  can  have  no  existence  except  in 
the  fancy  of  the  ignorant  vulgar,  who  are  more  struck  by  an 
apparent  anomaly  than  by  the  uniform  tenor  of  eternal  and 
unchangeable  laws."  The  same  sentiment  pervades  the  Aca- 
demical  Questions  of  Sir  William  Drummond,  and  will  be 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  I  I  -, 

found,  indeed,  a  prevailing  element  in  skeptical  literature  and 
philosophy. 

But  how  does  it  compare  with  the  doctrine  of  some  Chris- 
tian Philosophers,  even  when  engaged  in  defending  the  prin- 
ciples of  religion?  Mr.  Babbage,  one  of  the  first  mathemati- 
cians in  Europe,  in  his  Ninth  Bridgewater  Treatise,  written,  as 
he  tells  us,  expressly  to  show  that  mathematical  philosophy 
can  furnish  the  most  cogent  and  irrefragable  arguments  in 
behalf  of  the  Divine  existence  and  perfections,  thus  expresses 
himself:* 

"  To  have  foreseen  at  the  creation  of  matter  and  of  mind 
that  a -period  would  arrive  when  matter,  assuming  its  pre- 
arranged combinations,  would  become  susceptible  of  vegetable 
forms ;  that  these  should  in  due  time  themselves  supply  the 
pabulum  of  animal  existence ;  that  successive  races  of  giant 
forms  or  of  microscopic  beings  should,  at  appointed  periods, 
necessarily  rise  into  existence  and  as  inevitably  yield  to  decay  ; 
and  that  decay  and  death — the  lot  of  each  individual  exist- 
ence— should  also  act  with  equal  power  on  the  races  which 
they  constitute  ;  that  the  extinction  of  every  race  should  be 
as  certain  as  the  death  of  each  individual,  and  the  advent  of 
netv genera  be  as  inevitable  as  the  destruction  of  their  predeces- 
sors :  to  have  foreseen  all  these  changes  and  to  have  provided 
by  one  comprehensive  law  for  all  that  should  ever  occur,  either 
to  the  races  themselves,  to  the  individuals  of  which  they  are 
composed,  or  to  the  globe  which  they  inhabit,  manifests  a 
degree  of  power  and  of  knowledge  of  the  highest  conceivable 
order,"  etc. 

To  the  same  effect,  though  not  so  explicit,  is  the  language 
of  Mr.  Powell,  an  eminent  mathematician  and  philosopher  of 
Oxford,  in  his  work  on  the  Connection  of  Natural  and  Divine 
Truth  :t  "  This  is,  perhaps,  of  all  others,  the  reflection  which, 
to  a  thinking  and  philosophic  inquirer,  tends  most  to  exalt 


*  Babbage,  p.  45.  f  Powell,  p.  155. 


Il8  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

his  ideas  of  the  Divine  perfections ;  the  regulation  of  all  the 
varied  and  complicated  actions  of  the  material  world  by  an 
unvarying  system ;  the  combination  of  a  limited  number  of 
first  principles  producing  all  the  variety  and  harmony  of  the 
creation  ;  the  sufficiency  of  a  few  simple  laws  to  regulate  the 
entire  complexity  of  a  vast  mechanism ;  the  first  constitution  of 
the  world  which,  zvitJioiit  furtJier  interposition,  contains  ivithin 
itself  the  means  of  perpetual  retiovation  and  stability.  Now, 
this  conclusion  rests  (as  we  have  said)  on  the  collective  infer- 
ences of  a  real  maintenance  of  inviolable  order  in  the  mate- 
rial world.  It  is  evident,  then,  that  any  event  occurring  to 
interrupt  the  preservation  of  this  order  would  be  a  serious 
exception  and  formidable  difficulty  in  the  way  of  our  conclu- 
sion." 

The  manner  in  which  these  doctrines  have  been  applied  in 
the  study  of  Astronomy,  Physiology,  and  Geology  must  be 
sufficiently  obvious  to  those  who  are  at  all  conversant  with 
these  sciences.  Among  philosophical  Geologists,  for  exam- 
ple, while  there  is  a  school  which  maintains  that  the  present 
state  of  the  crust  of  the  earth  affords  incontestable  evidence 
of  great  catastrophes  in  the  distant  past,  and  of  the  exercise,  at 
different  eras,  of  a  power  which  was  at  least  extra-natural  if  it 
was  not  supernatural,  there  is  another,  and  we  believe  a  still 
larger  one,  which  insists  that  the  earth,  so  far  as  explored, 
affords  no  trace  of  the  agency  of  any  causes  other  than  those 
now  in  operation.  Geologists  of  the  latter  class  do  not  deny 
that  God  was  the  Creator  of  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth ;  but 
they  hold  that  He  manifested  his  wisdom  and  exerted  his  power, 
not  in  successive  miraculous  revolutions,  but  merely  in  the 
original  establishment  of  a  system,  out  of  which  all  succeeding 
changes  have  been  evolved  as  natural  and  necessary  results. 

To  show  what  sweeping  applications  of  this  principle  are 
sometimes  made  by  men  of  science,  even  when  they  are 
attempting  to  vindicate  the  Divine  honor  and  majesty,  let  us 
revert  for  a  moment  to  Mr.  Babbage.     In  the  celebrated  Cal- 


CRITICAL  DISCUSSIONS.  Ug 

culating  Engine  of  this  gentleman, — the  noblest  triumph  of 
mathematical  and  mechanical  skill  yet  known, — a  machine 
that  is  to  do  by  itself  the  work  of  calculating  the  numbers 
used  in  astronomical  and  nautical  tables, — he  finds  that  he  can 
so  adjust  its  parts  that  it  shall,  at  every  future  period,  though 
ever  so  remote,  make  one  or  two  seeming  exceptions  to  the 
one  only  law  which  it  has  hitherto  observed.  This  law,  how- 
ever, he  states,  is  not  the  full  expression  of  that  by  which  the 
machine  acts,  but  the  excepted  case  is  as  absolutely  and  irre- 
sistibly the  consequence  of  its  primitive  adjustment  as  is  any 
among  the  countless  multitude  which  it  may  previously  have 
produced.  For  instance,  the  machine  can  be  so  adjusted  as  to 
register  only  square  numbers  for  thousands  of  years,  and  then, 
in  one  or  more  instances  at  any  given  time,  it  can  register 
cube  numbers.  And  since  a  property  so  wonderful  can  be 
given  to  a  piece  of  human  workmanship,  it  is  suggested  that 
what  we  have  gazed  upon  as  miracles,  as  the  actual  suspen- 
sions of  natural  law,  as  the  manifestation  of  a  present  God, 
as  supernatural  declarations  of  his  ceaseless  dominion  over 
man  and  the  earth  he  inhabits,  as  tokens  of  his  sleepless 
superintendence  over  this  race  of  ours  that  He  hath  made  and 
which  He  will  hereafter  judge, — these,  it  is  suggested,  after 
all,  are  but  natural  results  of  decrees  established  thousands  or 
millions  of  years  ago.  And  so  of  Providence.  It  is  a  Provi- 
dence exerted  in  foreseeing,  at  the  first,  all  possible  contingen- 
cies, and  in  providing  for  them  so  perfectly,  and  with  a  kind- 
ness so  vigilant,  that  no  occasion  for  intervention  or  even  for 
supervision  can  ever  afterwards  arise. 

Now,  that  to  Mr.  Babbage's  mind  this  is  the  view  best  cal- 
culated, as  he  affirms,  to  afford  exalted  conceptions  of  Divine 
Wisdom  and  Power,  we  cannot  doubt,  and  there  may  be 
many  minds  beside  his  to  whom  it  appears  in  the  same  light. 
To  a  profound  mathematician,  employed  through  long  and 
toilsome  years  in  calculating  the  possible  combinations  of 
numbers,  in  devising  the  adjustment  of  complicated  mechan- 


120  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

ism,  in  endeavoring  to  foresee  all  the  disturbing  causes  that 
can  possibly  arise,  in  striving  to  bring,  within  the  performance 
of  a  machine,  the  greatest  possible  range  and  compass  of  re- 
sults,— that  such  a  mind  may  find  itself  awed  and  overpowered 
when  it  thinks  what  must  have  been  in  the  view  of  that  Eternal 
Being  who,  out  of  an  infinite  number  of  different  laws  of 
gravity  which  might  have  been  selected,  as  we  could  easily 
show,  chose  that  one  (the  inverse  ratio  of  the  square  of  the 
distance)  which  now  obtains  and  which  Newton  first  discov- 
ered ;  when  he  considers  how  the  best  intellect  of  the  scien- 
tific world,  for  the  last  two  centuries,  had  exhausted  itself  in 
tracing  out  but  a  few  of  the  consequences  of  that  single  law, 
and  how  all  its  consequences,  even  the  remotest,  nor  its  con- 
sequences only,  but  all  the  possible  consequences  of  each  one 
of  that  infinite  number  of  other  laws  which  might  have  been 
substituted  for  it,  must  have  been  foreseen  by  Him  who  gave  it 
preference ;  when  he  considers,  too,  that  this  is  but  one  of  in- 
numerable other  material  laws,  now  in  operation,  and  whose 
establishment  evinces,  in  each  case,  a  like  boundless  fore- 
sight ;  and  when  to  material  laws  he,  in  thought,  adds  those 
which  connect  matter  with  animal  life,  and  those  again  that 
connect  both  with  mind,  and  those  again  which  govern  the 
operations  of  our  mental,  moral,  and  spiritual  nature  ;  when 
he  thinks  of  the  countless  varieties  of  organized  beings,  living 
or  extinct — how  mountain  masses  have  been  piled  up  not 
only  out  of  petrified  animals,  but  even  out  of  dead  infusoria 
so  small  that  forty-one  thousand  of  them  made  but  a  cubic 
inch  ;  and  then,  when  he  conceives  that  the  nature,  functions, 
and  relations  of  all  these  countless  varieties  may  have  been 
foreseen  and  provided  for  in  one  stupendous  effort  of  inventive 
and  creative  power, — who  will  not  admit  that  here  is  a  noble 
conception  of  God,  that  to  such  a  mind,  with  such  habits,  it 
would  naturally  seem  the  noblest  and  most  sublime  ? 

But  is  God  to  be  contemplated  and  adored  by  none  but 
mathematicians?     And  arc  there  not   in  the  Divine  nature 


CRITICAL    DISCUSSIONS.  I2i 

Other  attributes  besides  Wisdom  and  Power  ?     Is  there  not 
Holiness  ?     Is  there   not   rectitude  ?     Is  there   not   Parental 
Love?     When  we  consider  Him   as  a  mechanician  merely, 
arranging  masses  of  matter,  availing  himself  of  their  pre-exist- 
ing  properties,  adjusting  them   to  certain  uses, — how  poor, 
how  inadequate  after  all  is  the  noblest  of  such  conceptions  ! 
God  not  only  arranged  matter.  He  created  it.     He  assigned  to 
it  its  properties.     Above  all  He  created  mind  ;   He  surrounds 
himself  with  intelligent  offspring.     This  material  framework 
of  nature,  these  verdant  fields,  these  extended  plains  and  tow- 
ering mountains,  these  flowing  rivers  and  expanding  oceans, 
this  grand  array  of  forces,  and  motions,  and  vicissitudes,  all 
marshalled,  as  it  were,  in  order,  and  moving  forward  in  har- 
mony,— what  is  it  all  but  a  dzuclliug-place  for  man,  the  intelli- 
gent, self-conscious,  accountable  child  of  God?     And  when 
does  that  God  shed  forth  the  effulgence  of  his  glory  so  brightly 
on  our  minds  as  when  we  can  contemplate  Him  sitting  not 
only  high  above  all  the  material  forces  that  He  hath  made, 
having  an  Immensity  that  neither  the  heavens,  nor  the  heaven 
of  heavens  can  contain,  but  sending  forth  conscious   intelli- 
gences as  heralds  of  his  moral  perfections  ?     Even  heathen 
poets  could  celebrate  the  praises  of  God  as  a  father.     And 
what  is  our  noblest  conception  of  Father?     When,  in  our 
thoughts,  do  we  seem  most  to  exalt  the  rule  of  a  wise,  just, 
and  loving  Parent?     To  what  should  we  appeal,  if  we  were 
most  anxious  to  commend  him  to  the  love  and  reverence  of 
his  household  ?    Would  it  be  merely  to  the  wisdom  with  which 
he  had  devised  and  established  the  regulations  of  that  house- 
hold; to  the  sagacity  with  which  he  has  anticipated  every 
emergency ;  to  the  fact  that  he  has  perfected  such  a  system 
that  it  can   dispense  altogether  with  his  own  presence  and 
agency,  and  that  he  now  lives  far  away  from  the  home  of  his 
affections,  never  interposing  in  its  affairs,  nor  sending  to  it  one 
fresh  memento  of  his  care  ?     No  !  we  ask  of  a  father  regard,  in 
the  first  place,  to  the  moral  welfare  of  his  children ;  we  ask  a 


122  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

rule  and  regimen  which  will  contribute  to  form  character,  to 
ennoble  sentiment,  to  develop  self-control  and  nerve  with  spir- 
itual power.  And  we  feel  that  this  needs  not  only  law,  but 
the  administration  of  law,  not  only  rules,  but  influences;  and 
not  only  these,  but  such  changes  from  time  to  time  that  these 
rules  can  adapt  themselves  to  emergencies  created  by  the  child 
himself  in  the  use  or  in  the  abuse  of  his  moral  liberty. 

Here,  then,  it  seems  to  us,  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  Mr.  Bab- 
bage's  theory  of  miracles, — a  theory  by  which  he  would  trans- 
form them  from  supernatural  into  natural  events.  He  adopts 
it  because  it  seems  to  him  the  view  which  best  illustrates  the 
wisdom  of  the  Deity.  We  say,  in  reply,  that  did  the  physical 
system  of  the  world  subsist  alone,  by  itself  and  for  itself,  or 
were  it  the  dwelling-place  of  beings  not  endowed  with  moral 
natures,  nor  with  faculties  essentially  progressive,  we  might 
assent  to  this  opinion.  But  when  we  consider  this  system  in 
its  higher  relations  ;  when  we  consider  it  as  connected  with  a 
nobler  economy, — even  a  moral  and  spiritual  one ;  when  we 
recollect  that  in  assigning  laws  to  matter  and  to  mind  God 
seems  to  have  had  special  reference  to  the  improvement  of 
man  in  wisdom  and  virtue,  then  a  great  question  arises. 

Suppose  that,  instead  of  inciting  him  to  a  faithful  cultivation 
of  these  powers  to  a  course  of  upright,  beneficent,  and  holy 
living,  to  a  clear  recognition  of  his  Creator  in  the  things  that 
He  hath  made ;  suppose  that  the  very  constancy  of  these  laws 
had  contributed  with  other  causes  to  superinduce  a  practical 
atheism  and  drown  men  in  sensuality  and  folly, — what  more 
likely  than  that  this  constancy  should  in  such  case  be  arrested; 
that  the  same  Divine  and  miraculous  power  which  established 
the  system  should  now  suspend  it ;  tliat,  having  failed  to  teach 
man  by  the  natural,  God  should  again  invoke  the  supernatural ; 
that,  stupefied  as  men  were  by  the  earthly  and  the  sensual,  they 
should  be  startled  from  their  guilty  slumbers  by  a  voice  from 
Heaven  ?  This  seems  to  be  the  true  theory  of  miracles,  and  it 
involves  no  impeachment  of  the  stability  of  the  Divine  coun- 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  123 

sels,  since  the  same  moral  purpose  which  assigned  fixed  laws 
and  properties  to  matter  at  first,  now  requires  that,  in  order  to 
the  attainment  of  its  high  and  beneficent  ends,  those  laws 
should  be  suspended, — just  as  a  wise  parent,  who  prescribes  a 
course  of  exercises  for  a  child,  may  revoke  or  suspend  them 
the  moment  that  he  finds  it  abused  by  that  child  to  the  injury 
of  his  health  or  his  morals. 

But  admit,  it  may  be  said,  that  it  is  moral  disorder  chargeable 
only  on  man  and  on  his  free  moral  agency  that  occasions  these 
deviations  in  physical  laws  from  theiraccustomed  course, — why 
not  allow  such  deviations  to  have  been  appointed  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world  ?  and  why  not  recognize  them  when 
they  occur  as  necessary  and  unavoidable  results  of  the  physi- 
cal character  which  God  impressed  at  first  upon  the  universe? 
We  answer  by  inquiring  why  we  should  adopt  this  view, 
thus  involving  some  of  the  plainest  parts  of  the  Bible  in  am- 
biguity. If  Natural  Theology  have  its  own  proper  evidence, 
so  has  the  Bible  also ;  and  in  choosing  between  different  views 
of  miraculous  interposition,  neither  of  which  can  claim  de- 
monstrative evidence,  it  is  surely  not  too  much  to  ask  that 
some  respect  should  be  paid  to  clear  and  explicit  declarations 
of  the  Sacred  Books.  Waving  this,  however,  let  me  ask  if 
God  is  a  mere  mechanician,  who  would  be  wearied  if  He  gave 
constant  attention  to  the  great  structure  which  He  once  made 
and  which  He  launched  on  boundless  space — its  native  ele- 
ment ?  or  would  it  derogate  from  his  greatness,  though  with 
a  Father's  eye  and  with  all  a  Father's  heart  He  should  con- 
tinually bend  over  his  intelligent  offspring  and  interpose 
when  necessary  to  save  them  from  themselves, — from  the  ap- 
propriate fruits  of  their  folly  or  their  guilt?  Concede  to  man 
so  much  of  moral  freedom  that  he  can  sin,  and  then  you  may 
easily  represent  to  yourself  an  awful  moral  crisis  ivJiicJi  ivould 
not  only  justify  but  also  require  these  miraculous  suspensions  of 
law;  and  thus,  while  blessed  spirits  beneath  brighter  heavens 
may  be  permitted  to  behold  in  new  worlds  as  they  rise  into 


124 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


being  sensible  proofs  of  God's  presence  and  Almighty  power, 
man  —  the  perverse,  the  erring,  the  sinful  —  may  need  to  be 
rebuked,  by  laws  disturbed;  by  elements  convulsed;  by  ca- 
tastrophes that  seem  to  attest  the  utmost  displeasure  of  that 
God  whose  wrath  is  consuming  fire. 

But,  again,  it  may  be  said  that  though  such  a  reason  or  final 
cause  for  miracles  maybe  assigned  with  plausibility  in  respect 
to  those  which  occurred  after  man  was  introduced  upon  the 
globe,  yet  it  can  hardly  apply  to  those  great  physical  vicissi- 
tudes which  preceded  that  event,  and  which  we  may  also  re- 
gard as  supernatural.  We  reply,  that  inasmuch  as  clear  me- 
morials of  those  vicissitudes  have  been  engraven  on  the  rocks 
and  hills,  they  do  present  even  now  to  the  student  of  na- 
ture an  instructive  moral  lesson,  for  they  lead  him  back  from 
one  memorable  era  to  another, — each  anterior  to  the  existence 
of  man  upon  the  earth,  and  yet  each  illustrated  by  the  exer- 
cise of  God's  creative  power.  Independent,  too,  of  the  con- 
firmation yielded  by  these  records  of  creation  to  the  records 
of  revelation,  they  teach  the  further  instructive  lesson  that  the 
Providence  of  God  is  truly  a  superintending  providence  ;  that 
it  did  not  expend  itself  in  one  effort  of  creative  power  and 
foresight ;  that,  having  interposed  in  ages  past  one  after  another 
display  of  its  creative  energies,  those  energies  are  to  be  re- 
garded as  ever  active,  and  that  man  is  to  feel  that  the  power 
in  which  he  lives  and  moves  and  has  his  being  is  as  sleepless 
in  vigilance  as  it  is  exhaustless  in  kindness  and  unfailing  in 
rectitude. 

We  cannot  dismiss  this  branch  of  the  subject  without  say- 
ing one  word  of  the  entire  nullity  of  miracles  as  a  ground  of 
evidence,  if  they  are  only  preordained  results  of  physical  law. 
In  such  case  not  only  would  the  language  in  which  they  are  de- 
scribed in  the  Bible  be  deceptive,  but  those  who  wrought  them 
would  in  one  important  sense  be  impostors  and  the  miracles 
themselves  a  fraud.  They  are  now  supposed  to  attest  the 
agency  of  God   in  a  supernatural    manner;  but  this   theory 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


125 


makes  them  merely  natural.  They  come  before  us,  in  the  Bible, 
claiming  regard  as  special  signs  and  messengers  from  Heaven. 
But,  if  Mr.  Babbage  is  correct,  neither  prophecy  nor  the  ful- 
fillment of  prophecy,  neither  prediction  of  the  wonderful 
works  of  Christ,  nor  those  works  themselves,  ought  to  awaken 
more  awe  or  inspire  a  deeper  sense  of  God's  presence  than 
the  daily  rising  of  the  sun.  All  teachers  who  make  God  and 
immortality  their  theme  would  be  alike  Divine  messengers, 
and  would  stand  precisely  on  the  same  level,  except  as  some 
might  excel  others  in  the  matter  of  their  instructions.  Nay, 
the  same  foreknowledge  which  discerned  occasion,  and  the 
same  ordaining  power  which  prepared  the  way  for  a  Jesus  or  a 
Paul,  may  have  provided  also  for  a  Mohammed  or  a  Smith, 
And  tyrant  after  tyrant,  as  he  vies  to  become  the  scourge  of 
God  and  the  terror  of  mankind,  would  have  to  be  ranked,  on 
this  principle,  among  Apostles  and  Missionaries  of  the  Most 
High, — preadjusted  parts  in  nature's  universal  plan. 

"  If  plagues  and  earthquakes  break  not  Heaven's  design. 
Why,  then,  a  Borgia  or  a  Catiline  ? 

This  may  be  the  philosophy  of  a  rationalizing  poet,  but  it  is 
surely  not  the  philosophy  of  the  Bible ;  nor  can  it  well  be  his 
who  sees  in  God  a  universal,  ever-gracious,  and  provident 
Father. 

II.  We  have  thus  spoken  of  the  inconsistency  of  this  theory 
of  causation  with  what  would  seem  to  be  the  true  character 
of  God  as  gathered  both  from  nature  and  from  revelation. 
We  come  now  to  speak  of  its  inconsistency  with  what  must 
seem  to  be  the  nature  and  mission  of  man.  It  is  often  said 
that  belief  in  the  perfect  uniformity  of  nature  is  instinctive  in 
man ;  that  all  our  experience  tends  to  ripen  and  strengthen 
this  belief,  and  that  any  other  supposition  would  render  science 
impossible  and  action  but  a  leap  in  the  dark.  That  belief  in 
the  substantial  uniformity  of  nature  is  intuitive  we  admit,  and 


126  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

we  admit,  too,  that  as  we  extend  our  acquaintance  with  the 
Divine  works  we  often  find  order  and  uniformity  where  once 
we  saw  only  confusion  or  supernatural  interference.  But  we 
do  not  conceive  that  this  intuitive  belief  is  a  precise  lucasure 
of  that  uniformity  which  really  exists  in  nature,  any  more  than 
that  our  instinctive  fear  of  danger  or  love  of  pleasure  is  a  pre- 
cise measure  of  that  which  in  the  one  or  the  other  of  these 
forms  is  approaching  us.  Each  serves  to  admonish  us  of  a 
general  fact,  and  to  impel  us  to  ascertain  its  true  character 
and  extent.  And  we  would  remind  those  who  reason  other- 
wise, and  who  think  that  if  there  were  to  be  any  contingency 
in  nature, — any  possibility  that  the  regular  succession  of  cause 
and  effect  could  be  interrupted, — that  there  would  then  be  an 
end  of  all  science  and  all  systematic  industry ;  to  such  we 
would  say,  that  to  man's  mind  there  must,  hi  fact,  ahvays  be  a 
vast  world  of  contingencies.  Whatever  may  be  the  case  in  na- 
ture considered  absolutely,  there  is  before  him,  however  wide 
the  horizon  which  his  knowledge  spreads  out,  an  untrodden, 
unseen  wilderness  beyond,  and  to  him  that  wilderness  is  crowded 
with  uncertainties.  He  knows  not  what  a  day  or  an  object  may 
bring  forth.  Let  him  finish  the  most  consummate  specimen 
of  workmanship;  let  science  and  art  have  done  their  best ;  let 
no  precautions  against  danger  or  disappointment  be  omitted, 
and  yet  in  that  master-piece  there  are  still  contingencies. 
Some  latent  disturbing  cause  may  have  eluded  observation, 
and  in  a  moment  an  engine,  intended,  perhaps,  to  be  a  terror 
only  to  foes  and  a  strong  bulwark  to  friends,  may  send  a  cry 
of  horror  through  the  surrounding  throng,  prostrate  in  death 
some  of  the  most  honored  of  the  land,  and  spread  wailing 
through  many  a  happy  household.  So  limited,  after  all,  is 
man's  knowledge.  He  discovers  what  he  calls  truth,  but  it  is 
only  an  approximation,  not  an  exact  conformity,  to  things 
as  they  are.  It  embraces  some,  but  not  all  the  elements  of  the 
objective  reality. 

And  hence  the  differences  between  laws  as  laid  down  in 


CRITICAL  DISCUSSIONS. 


127 


theory  and  as  applied  in  practice.  Man  enlarges  the  boundaries 
of  his  intellectual  prospect,  but  it  is  only  to  find  that  it  con- 
nects itself,  at  innumerable  points,  with  the  yet  more  distant 
and  unknown.  But  he  does  not,  therefore,  abandon  inquiry ; 
he  does  not  cease  to  reason  or  to  act  upon  the  probabilities  of 
the  future  ;  he  provides  for  the  morrow,  though  he  knows  not 
that  the  morrow's  sun  will  ever  rise  upon  him  ;  he  engages  in 
the  ventures  of  life  oftentimes  when  the  chances  of  success  are 
against  him.  And  does  he  not  do  well  ?  To  omniscience 
only  could  all  the  issues  of  the  future  be  known — all  be  fixed 
and  certain.  To  created  minds  much  must  ever  appear  con- 
tingent, and  yet  that  much  does  not  and  ought  not  to  prevent 
them  from  acting  as  though  it  were  fixed  and  ascertainable. 

But  we  observe  further  that  this  belief  in  the  uniformity  of 
nature  is  not  the  only  intuitive  principle  of  the  human  mind. 
Is  there  not  the  sense  also  of  the  supernatural, — the  idea  that 
there  is  a  power  above  nature, — and  that  this  power  is  likely 
at  times  to  interfere  with  the  ordinary  course  of  events?  Why 
is  it  that  men  in  the  infancy  of  society  are  so  prone  to  ascribe 
unwonted  phenomena  in  the  heavens  or  on  the  earth  to 
Deities  ?  Why  do  they  hear  the  voice  of  a  spirit  in  the  bowl- 
ings of  the  tempest,  or  see  his  form  in  the  clouds  ?  Why 
do  they  people  every  grove  and  fountain  and  mountain-cleft 
with  its  Divinity  ?  Is  it  not  the  instinctive  uprising  of  the 
soul  towards  the  invisible  and  supersensual  ?  Is  it  not  a  pro- 
clamation sent  forth  from  the  innermost  recesses  of  our  hearts, 
saying  there  is  more  than  eye  sees  or  ear  hears  ?  there  is  more 
than  visible  change  following  change  in  one  eternal  round  ? 
there  is  a  power  that  established  that  order  for  one  wise  pur- 
pose, and  that  may  set  it  aside  for  another  ?  There  is  an  eye 
that  does  not  sleep  and  an  arm  that  does  not  tire, — a  power 
that  sitteth  on  the  circle  of  the  earth,  and  the  inhabitants 
thereof  are  as  grasshoppers,  and  it  ordcreth  all  things  accord- 
ing to  the  counsel  of  its  own  will. 

This,  we  say,  is  the  instinctive  language  of  the  human  heart. 


128  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

As  there  is  one  inUdtive  principle  that  points  tozvards  constancy, 
so  there  is  anotlicr  that  points  towards  a  source  of  change.  Both 
are  liable  to  excess  and  abuse.  In  the  terrors  and  follies  of 
superstition  and  fanaticism, — in  the  morbid  fancy  that  sees  a 
miracle  in  every  eclipse  or  meteor  or  earthquake,  a  special 
providence  in  every  act  of  man  or  nature, — we  see  the  sense 
of  the  supernatural  perverted  and  abused.  But  is  there  no 
perversion  of  our  faith  in  nature's  uniformity  ?  Whence  most 
of  the  disappointments  of  life  ?  Whence  the  prejudices,  the 
misjudgments,  of  all  ?  W^hence  the  visionar>^  schemes  of  prac- 
tical men,  the  idle  speculations  of  theorists,  the  blind  and 
braggart  confidence  which  says  all  things  continue  as  thcyxvere 
from  the  beginning, — to-morrozv  shall  be  as  to-day,  and  much 
more  abundant?  Where  is  the  promise  of  Gods  judgment? 
tush!  He  doth  not  regard.  And  through  such  confidence, 
what  multitudes  rush  upon  their  own  destruction !  All  this  is 
but  an  abuse  and  misapplication  of  our  instinctive  faith  in 
nature's  constancy, — a  premature  inference  from  the  past  to 
the  future,  from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  from  what  has 
been  under  certain  circumstances  to  what  will  or  may  be  under 
other  and  different  circumstances. 

Both  of  these  principles,  as  it  seems  to  us,  have  an  impor- 
tant office  ;  as  both  are  liable  to  perversion.  We  strive  to  en- 
lighten and  enlarge  our  views  of  natural  causation — by  the 
established  order  of  sequences  in  nature;  by  observation  and 
by  analysis  ;  by  reasoning  and  experience  ;  and  thus  we  grad- 
ually attain  to  those  larger  views  which  characterize  true  phi- 
losophy, and  are  salutary  guides  in  life.  Should  it  not  be  so 
with  the  instinctive  sense  of  the  supernatural  ?  Should  science, 
in  its  highest  and  truest  sense,  hope  to  advance  or  to  reach  a 
large  and  comprehensive  view  of  things  if  it  omit  all  reference 
to  this  deep  and  all-pervading  element  in  the  mind's  opera- 
tions? The  skeptic  Comte  may  contend — as  he  does — that 
Science  tends  regularly  to  recede  from  the  supernatural  till  it 
plants  itself  on  the  metaphysical,  and  from  the  metaphysical 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  I2q 

again  till  it  rests  finally  on  the  physical  and  positive.  From 
him  this  might  be  expected.  But  is  this  the  view  which  we 
should  expect  fi'om  the  true  disciple  of  Bacon, — of  him  who 
wrote  in  this  wise  in  his  Confession  of  Faith,  "  I  believe 
that  notwithstanding  God  hath  rested  and  ceased  from  creat- 
ing since  the  first  Sabbath,  yet,  nevertheless,  He  doth  accom- 
plish and  fulfill  his  divine  will  in  all  things,  great  and  small, 
singular  and  general,  as  fully  and  exactly  by  providence  as 
He  could  by  miracle  and  new  creation,  though  his  working  be 
not  immediate  and  direct,  but  by  compass :  not  violating  na- 
ture, which  is  his  own  law  upon  the  creation  ?" 

In  respect  to  Providence,  different  views,  we  are  aware,  have 
been  entertained.  To  some,  as  to  Mr.  Babbage  and  Mr. 
George  Combe,  Providence  is  but  the  prescience  that  foresaw 
and  the  preordaining  power  that  in  the  beginning  provided 
for  every  future  contingency ;  so  that  now  the  course  of  things 
flows  on  in  obedience  to  nothing  but  inexorable  law.  But  is 
such  the  view  which  meets  the  deep  and  irrepressible  yearn- 
ings and  convictions  of  the  human  soul?  Is  it  only  to  an 
inflexible  Law-maker  that  that  soul  cries  for  relief  from  the 
depth  of  its  distress  ?  Its  instinctive  resort  when  awful  dan- 
ger threatens,  to  a  power  above  nature, —  its  appeal,  when 
struggling  with  fierce  temptation  or  with  overpowering  appe- 
tite, for  spiritual  succor  to  some  Being  that  can  act  directly 
on  the  intellect,  the  affections,  and  the  will,  —  its  unshaken 
faith,  when  all  things  seem  to  be  against  it,  that  though 
the  sea  roar  and  the  waves  thereof  be  lifted  up,  there  is 
One — a  Father — sitting  on  high,  who  is  mightier  and  who 
doeth  all  things  well ;  these  sentiments,  so  instinctive  and  in- 
effaceable, not  learnt  from  Scripture,  but  felt  wherever  the  hu- 
man heart  throbs  with  life  and  emotion, — were  they  given  for 
naught  ?  Do  they  point  to  no  corresponding  reality  ?  or  is 
the  Being  to  whom  they  point  one  who  operates  on  man 
only  through  fixed  laws  and  properties,  which  he  never  modi- 
fies, never  overrules,  never  disturbs?    We  put  the  authority 

9 


130  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

of  the  Bible  here  entirely  out  of  the  account.  The  great  and 
wise  men  of  the  world, — those  who  have  drunk  deepest  at 
the  wells  of  uninspired  wisdom,  who  hav^e  seen  with  intui- 
tive glance  farthest  into  the  constitution  of  things,  and  whose 
intuitive  perceptions  have  been  most  enlarged  and  ripened  by- 
profound  observation  and  reflection  on  the  ways  of  men,  and 
on  the  course  of  the  world's  history, — what  has  been  their  judg- 
ment ?  Have  they  seen  in  Providence  only  foreknowledge 
and  foreordaining  power  exerted  in  creation  ?  Have  they  seen 
only  wisdom  and  might  employed  in  establishing  an  irreversi- 
ble order  of  events  which  is  destined  to  move  on  forever  with- 
out superintendence  or  intervention  ?  or  have  they  seen  in  it 
the  supervision  of  an  Infinite  Father  who  is  Governor  as  well 
as  Creator  of  all  his  children, — who  does  not  merely  super- 
vise as  spectator  the  movements  of  dead  mechanism,  but  who, 
as  active  guide  and  director,  presides  over  the  voluntary  agency 
of  intelligent  and  moral  beings,  and  though  He  works  now  no 
miracles  in  their  behalf,  yet  causes  established  laws  and  op- 
erations to  concur  and  coincide  in  a  manner  often  the  most 
remarkable,  and— may  we  not  add?— the  most  supernatural? 
On  this  point  let  Dr.  Franklin  answer.  No  one  will  accuse 
him  of  superstition,  or  of  an  undue  regard  for  the  supernatu- 
ral. All  will  admit  that  few  men  ever  surpassed  him  as  a 
shrewd  observer  of  life  and  of  human  affairs,  or  as  a  profound 
inquirer  after  the  causes  and  principles  that  lie  at  the  bottom 
of  great  events.  And  what  was  his  language  when  address- 
ing the  Convention  of  the  North  American  States,  sitting  in 
Philadelphia  in  1787,  to  frame  the  Federal  Constitution,  in 
support  of  his  motion  for  daily  prayers  in  that  body?  It  must 
be  remembered  that  weeks  had  elapsed  without  the  conven- 
tion having  accomplished  any  part  of  its  all-important  work, 
and  that  irreconcilable  differences  seemed  likely  to  defeat  its 
purpose  altogether.  It  was  under  these  circumstances  that 
the  American  sage  introduced  his  resolution  and  made  the 
following  remarks :    "  In  the  beginning  of  the  contest  with 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  yX\ 

Britain,"  said  he,  "  when  we  were  sensible  of  danger,  we  had 
daily  prayers  in  this  room  for  the  Divine  protection.  Our 
prayers,  sir,  were  heard,  and  they  were  graciously  answered. 
All  of  us  who  were  engaged  in  the  struggle  must  have  ob- 
served frequent  instances  of  a  superintending  Providence  in 
our  favor.  To  that  kind  Providence  we  owe  this  happy  op- 
portunity of  consulting  in  peace  on  the  means  of  establishing 
our  future  national  felicity.  And  have  we  now  forgotten  this 
powerful  friend  ?  or  do  we  imagine  we  no  longer  need  his  as- 
sistance ?  I  have  lived,  sir,  a  long  time  (eighty-one  years),  and 
the  longer  I  live  the  more  convincing  proofs  I  see  of  this 
truth, — that  God  governs  in  the  affairs  of  men.  And  if  a  spar- 
row cannot  fall  to  the  ground  without  his  notice,  is  it  probable 
that  an  empire  can  rise  without  his  aid  ?  We  have  been 
assured,  sir,  in  the  Sacred  Writings,  '  that  except  the  Lord 
build  the  house  they  labor  but  in  vain  that  build  it'  I  firmly 
believe  this,  and  I  also  believe  that  without  his  concurring 
aid  we  shall  succeed  in  this  political  building  no  better  than 
the  builders  of  Babel ;  we  shall  be  divided  by  our  little 
practical  local  interests ;  our  projects  will  be  confounded,  and 
we  ourselves  shall  become  a  reproach  and  a  by-word  down  to 
future  ages  ;  and,  what  is  worse,  mankind  may  hereafter  from 
this  unfortunate  instance  despair  of  establishing  government 
by  human  wisdom  and  leave  it  to  chance,  war,  or  conquest.  I 
therefore  beg  leave  to  move  that  henceforth  prayers  imploring 
the  assistance  of  Heaven  and  its  blessings  on  our  deliberations 
be  held  in  this  assembly  every  morning  before  we  proceed  to 
business,  and  that  one  or  more  of  the  clergy  of  the  city  be 
requested  to  officiate  in  that  service." 

This  is  not  the  language  of  one  who  looked  on  God  as  in- 
exorable ;  or,  in  other  words,  as  a  Lawgiver  whose  system  is 
that  of  inflexible  uniformity.  And  to  whom  were  these  words 
addressed  ?  Over  this  assembly  presided  George  Washington, 
whose  writings  and  whole  life  are  more  remarkable  for  nothing 
than  for  their  frequent  and  pointed  recognition  of  the  agency 


132  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

of  the  same  Divine  Providence.  Those  venerable  men  had 
passed  together  through  times  that  emphatically  tried  their 
souls,  and  it  was  in  that  hot  and  fiery  furnace  that  their  labor- 
ing hearts  had  felt  that  succor  from  God  was  a  necessity  of 
our  moral  nature,  and  that  man's  extremity  is  God's  oppor- 
tunity. 

Or,  let  us  appeal,  if  we  will,  from  the  authority  of  Wash- 
ington and  Franklin  to  that  of  Shakspeare,  the  "  myriad- 
minded,"  of  whom  it  hath  been  said,  "  The  mind  of  Shak- 
speare was  as  a  magic  mirror,  in  which  all  human  natures 
possible,  forms,  and  combinations  were  present  intuitively  and 
inherently,  not  conceived,  but  as  connatural  portions  of  his 
own  humanity."  And  what,  according  to  him,  is  the  language 
of  the  human  heart  when  speaking  from  its  deepest  convic- 
tions ? — 

"  Our  indiscretions  sometimes  serve  us  well 
When  our  deep  plots  do  pall ;  and  that  should  teach  us 
There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  will." 

A  lesson  so  deeply  imprinted  on  the  poet's  own  mind  that 
more  than  one  of  his  dramas  seem  to  have  been  constructed 
for  the  express  purpose  of  exhibiting  the  workings  of  this 
Divine  and  special  Providence  in  the  affairs  of  men. 

On  this  great  subject  we  do  not  purpose  to  touch  any  fur- 
ther than  as  it  connects  itself  with  the  present  state  of  science 
and  with  some  of  its  supposed  aberrations.  As  there  are 
mathematicians  and  mechanical  Philosophers  who,  in  their 
views  of  the  fixed  order  of  nature,  leave  no  place  for  miracles, 
so  arc  there  mental  philosophers  and  anthropologists  who  seem 
to  leave  no  place  for  providence  or  prayer.  As  an  example 
of  the  latter  we  may  mention  one  whose  name  we  have  already 
introduced,  and  of  whom  we  would  speak  without  the  least 
disrespect.  No  candid  mind  will  deny  that  George  Combe 
deserves  on  some  accounts  consideration  and  gratitude  as  one 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  I^j 

who  has  done  good  service  to  philosophy  and  to  mankind. 
In  respect  to  the  very  matter  under  discussion,  and  in  con- 
nection with  which  he  seems  to  us  obnoxious  to  grave  cen- 
sure, he  has  still  inculcated  with  great  force,  both  of  reasoning 
and  of  illustration,  important  and  much-neglected  lessons.  He 
has  taught,  especially  in  his  work  entitled  the  Constitution  of 
Man,  that  we  live  under  a  government  of  law,  physical,  or- 
ganic, and  mental,  which  we  are  bound  to  respect  and  which 
it  is  not  safe  for  us  to  disregard ;  "  that  the  good  and  evil  of 
life  are  much  more  in  our  own  hands  than  is  generally  sup- 
posed ;  that  many  of  the  sufferings  of  humanity — sufferings 
too  often  considered  as  fixed  by  the  Creator  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  world — admit  of  removal  by  a  greater  knowledge 
of  the  laws  of  nature  and  a  more  careful  application  of  that 
knowledge ;  that  many  of  the  calamities  of  life  ascribed  to  an 
inscrutable  Providence  may,  on  careful  examination,  be  traced 
back  to  misconduct  either  in  ourselves  or  in  those  whom  we 
might  have  influenced  to  better  things  ;  that  an  attention  to 
one  part  of  our  duty  will  not  exempt  us  from  the  conse- 
quences of  neglecting  another;  and  generally,  that  increased 
knowledge  and  virtue  must  necessarily  draw  after  them  greatly 
increased  happiness."  These  are  truths  by  no  means  new,  yet 
much  overlooked,  and  in  urging  them  on  men's  notice  and 
setting  forth  the  great  command  which  each  one  has  over  the 
sources  of  his  own  happiness  Mr.  Combe  has  rendered  a  use- 
ful service  to  mankind. 

Wherein,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  do  we  differ  from  his  views? 
We  answer,  that  we  dissent  from  the  fundamental  idea  of  his 
speculations,  which  seems  to  assume  that  there  cannot  possi- 
bly be  such  a  thing  as  contingency  in  the  universe,  and  also 
from  the  exaggerated  pictures  of  man's  capabilities  and  con- 
sequent temporal  responsibilities  which  he  draws.  Man,  sole 
master  of  Ids  oivn  destiny  by  means  of  obedience  to  natural  lazvs, 
is  the  sum  and  substance  of  Mr.  Combe's  Philosophy  in  the 
work  just  referred  to  (which  is  much  the  best,  as  it  seems  to 


124  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

US,  he  ever  wrote).  Is  this  as  true  and  comprehensive  a  phi- 
losophy as  Shakspcare's,  which  assigns  to  man  the  humbler 
office  of  "rough-hewing"  his  ends, — to  God  the  higher  one  of 
"  shaping"  them  ?  Who  that  traces  back  his  own  experience, 
or  looks  on  the  world  around  him,  does  not  see  an  agency 
other  than  man's  when  av^ailing  himself  of  Natural  Laws  ? 
Who  does  not  see  how  little  way,  after  all,  our  utmost  knowl- 
edge of  those  laws,  or  our  best  obedience  to  them,  can  go 
towards  compassing  the  good  or  shunning  the  evil  of  life  ? 
And  where  would  be  the  use  of  prayer  if  all  things  were  or- 
dered by  fixed  and  irreversible  laws  that  regard  not  individ- 
uals, but  have  respect  to  masses  only  ?  If  nothing  can  ever 
accrue  to  us  except  through  such  laws  moving  in  one  ever- 
recurring  round, — subject  in  no  respect  whatever  to  modifica- 
tion in  themselves  or  in  their  connection  with  other  laws, — 
then  must  every  future  event  be  absolutely  fixed,  and  prayer 
to  have  it  altered  must  be  a  sad  masquerade, — as  deficient  in 
taste  as  it  is  in  ingenuousness.  To  announce  our  wants  to 
God  cannot  be  its  office,  for  to  an  Infinite  Intelligence  they 
must  be  known  already.  Nor,  if  this  doctrine  be  true,  can 
this  knowledge  be  of  any  avail.  To  importune  for  special 
blessings,  temporal  or  spiritual,  would  be  superfluous,  since 
those  blessings,  if  they  fall  within  the  onward  way  of  unalter- 
able laws,  would  become  ours  without  prayer,  and  no  prayer 
can  procure  them  if  they  do  not.  To  exert  a  persuasive  in- 
fluence on  the  Divine  mind  is  impossible,  since  that  mind  is 
inexorable.  What,  then,  in  such  case,  would  prayer  become  but 
a  species  of  pious  legerdemain,  where,  under  pretence  of  plead- 
ing with  God  for  that  which  is  no  longer  his  to  dispense,  we 
gain  the  chance  of  communing  with  his  spirit,  and  thus  gain 
grace, — not,  indeed,  from  Him,  but  by  a  species  of  self-devel- 
opment? Were  such  the  Divine  government,  meditation  not 
prayer,  devout  contemplation  not  entreaty  or  intercession, 
would  befit  alike  man's  estate  and  God's  eternal  majesty. 
But  we  conclude  these  strictures.     We  have  succeeded  in 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  j^C 

exploring  but  a  part  of  the  ground  marked  out  in  the  begin- 
ning of  this  section.     Besides  the  inconsistency  of  these  ex- 
aggerated views  of  the  constancy  of  nature  with  any  intelH- 
gible  theory  of  miracles  or  of  Providence,  we  intended  also  to 
have  pointed  out  their  inconsistency  with  the  moral  freedom 
and  responsibility  of  man,  and  with  the  existence  of  evil  and 
disorder  in  our  world.     But  these  points  we  must  omit.     Our 
object  has  been  to  indicate  a  tendency  towards  fatalism,  which 
appears  to  us  to  mark  some  of  the  developments  of  science  in 
our  day,  and  which  is  tantamount,  of  course,  to  a  disposition  to 
exclude  the  supernatural  as  an  element  from  Philosophy.   It  is 
a  tendency  unfriendly,  as  we  believe,  to  the  best  interests  of 
science  and  of  life.     It  leads  to  premature  inductions,  and  to  a 
presumptuous  confidence  that  in  Nature,  as  she  now  exhibits 
herself,  we  have  a  literal  transcript  of  all  the  past  and  a  minute 
circumstantial  prophecy  of  all  the  future.     It  prevents  us  from 
remembering  that  all  truth  reached  by  induction,  when  made 
the  basis  of  prediction  and  of  prospective  action,  is  contingent 
truth  ;    that  it  becomes  us  not  to  say   that   on   such   a   day 
of  such  a  year  a  certain  phenomenon   must  and  ivilL  be  ob- 
served; but  that  if  God  so  will,  or  if  existing  circumstances 
remain  unchanged,  such  phenomenon  will  occur.     It  gives  us, 
too  (this   exclusive  reference  to  fixed   laws),  an  extravagant 
estimate  of  the  value  of  our  own   knowledge,  leading  us  to 
forget  that  any  formula  which  the  most  profound  philosopher 
may  have  constructed  in  order  to  embody  facts,  comprehends, 
after  all,  but  a  portion  of  the  truth,  and  that  there  are  count- 
less facts  not  yet  explained  by  any  philosophy.    It  sometimes 
contributes,  too,  to  engender  among  scientific  men  a  narrow- 
ness of  mind  which  undervalues  all  other  pursuits,  and  looks 
upon  inquiries  not  pertaining  to  their  favorite  study  as  barren 
and  unprofitable.     It  is,  in  fine,  a  tendency  which,  though  most 
apt  just  now  to  infect  physical  science,  will  be  likely  to  spread 
itself  insidiously  through  the    different  branches   of  mental 
philosophy,  and  thus  lead  to  the  confounding  of  two  worlds — 


136 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


the  natural  and  moral — which  ancient  philosophers  were  most 
anxious  to  keep  asunder,  while  its  influence  in  theology  will 
be  seen  in  an  increasing  disposition  to  eliminate  the  supernat- 
ural as  well  from  the  Bible  as  from  nature.  If  such  be  the 
spirit  and  tendency  of  these  views,  we  need  not  add  that  they 
must  have  the  effect  of  obscuring  our  perceptions  of  God  and 
of  his  agency, — leading  us  to  refer  it  all  to  the  beginning  of 
the  system  ;  or,  if  we  recognize  his  present  agency,  leading  us 
to  view  it  as  an  agency  restraining  itself  by  unalterable  laws, — 
enslaved,  in  truth,  to  its  own  irreversible  system,  just  as  the 
ancient  poets  represent  the  gods  as  striving  in  vain  to  save 
Caesar  when  his  ruin  had  been  decreed  by  an  invisible  and 
irresistible  fate, — a  fate  that  ruled  absolutely  over  Divinities 
as  well  as  over  men.  Need  we  add,  that  with  such  views  of 
God  there  can  be  little  of  filial  confidence  among  his  creat- 
ures,—  little  of  that  life  of  faith  which,  in  the  midst  of  the 
world's  vicissitudes,  is  the  happiest  as  well  as  the  noblest  of 
lives,  and  little  of  that  love  that  casteth  out  fear  and  is  the 
spring  of  a  service  which  is  perfect  freedom  ? 

IV,    SCIENCE   AND    RELIGION. 

Before  unfolding  the  doctrines  of  Natural  Theology  by  the 
aid  of  Science,  we  shall  offer  some  further  general  remarks  on 
the  connection  bcHveen  Natural  and  Divine  TriitJi,  or,  in  other 
words,  on  the  Relation  between  Science  and  Religion  or  be- 
tween Philosophy  and  Theology,  understanding  by  the  former 
the  aggregate  of  various  systems  of  Natural  Knowledge;  by 
the  latter  the  aggregate  of  various  systems  of  religious  doc- 
trine, whether  inspired  or  uninspired, — Christian,  Jewish,  or 
Pagan. 

It  is  a  subject  both  difficult  and  important.  In  the  history 
of  the  past  few  things  are  more  striking  than  the  changes 
which  have  taken  place  in  the  relative  bearings  of  Science  and 
Theology.     In  the  East  (Asia  especially)  they  have  generally 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


^Z7 


been  blended,  and  in  most  instances  confounded, — Theology 
taking  the  initiative  and  maintaining  the  ascendency,  and  Phi- 
losophy unfolding  itself  no  further  than  might  suit  the  tastes 
or  subserve  the  views  of  a  reigning  priesthood.  In  the  West, 
from  very  early  periods,  philosophy  seems  to  have  had  a  more 
independent  existence,  and  to  have  dwelt  less  and  less,  as  it 
advanced,  upon  theological  views,  though  those  views  can 
always  be  traced,  even  in  the  schools  of  Grecian  sages,  modi- 
fying the  prevailing  spirit  and  tendency  of  speculation.  Under 
the  Roman  Empire  philosophy,  whether  employed  in  assailing 
or  in  vindicating  Christianity,  partook  largely  of  the  theological 
spirit,  being  sometimes  paramount,  but  generally  subordinate, 
to  religion.  During  the  earlier  half  of  the  Middle  Ages  Theol- 
ogy, under  the  auspices  of  an  educated  clergy  and  in  the 
midst  of  general  ignorance  and  barbarism,  became  altogether 
ascendant,  and  philosophy  could  hardly  have  been  said  to 
exist.  In  the  later  parts  of  the  mediaeval  period  there  was  a 
gradual  separation  of  the  two,  though  Theology  still  strug- 
gled, with  the  aid  of  Aristotle,  to  retain  the  human  mind 
under  its  exclusive  authority.  The  Reformation,  aided  as  it 
was  by  the  Revival  of  Letters  and  by  the  advance  of  Physical 
Science,  contributed  much  to  emancipate  thought,  and  thus  to 
cultivate  a  spirit  of  free  inquiry  in  Philosophy  as  well  as  in 
Theology, — a  spirit  which  degenerated,  however,  too  often,  as 
might  have  been  expected,  into  licentiousness. 

Ever  since  that  era  each  has  been  struggling  for  a  separate 
existence,  yet  neither  has  been  willing-  to  surrender  its  claim 
to  control  and  direct  the  other.  So  many  topics  are  common 
to  both  that,  whether  the  point  of  departure  be  theological  or 
philosophical,  we  necessarily  soon  reach  a  common  ground, 
and  on  that  ground  these  two  powers  often  encounter  with 
passionate  animosity.  Instead  of  each  leaving  to  the  other 
its  own  peculiar  jurisdiction  over  such  questions,  both  are 
anxious  for  the  mastery,  and  each  would  dictate  to  the  other 
by  what  rules  it  shall  interpret  and  reason,  and  to  what  results 


138 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


it  shall  attain.  Hence  the  oscillating  tendencies  which  may- 
be observed  since  Bacon's  time, — perhaps  we  ought  to  add 
through  all  time, — now  towards  a  philosophical  theology,  now 
towards  a  theological  philosophy.  When,  under  the  auspices 
of  some  great  master  like  Locke  or  Kant,  philosophy  becomes 
an  object  of  universal  interest  to  the  thinking  world,  its  ex- 
pounder is  recognized  as  Supreme  Legislator  of  thoughts,  and 
men  of  every  profession,  sacred  or  secular,  are  expected  to 
conform  their  methods  of  reasoning  and  study  to  his  high 
decrees.  On  the  other  hand,  let  a  great  theological  mind 
arise  like  Augustine  or  Ansclm,  Calvin  or  Edwards,  and  he 
impresses  a  deep  theological  dye  on  Philosophy  and  Litera- 
ture. Thus,  at  one  time  we  find  a  rationalistic  or  skeptical 
spirit  pervading  theology,  just  as  at  another  time  we  find  a 
high  supersensuous  and  religious  tone  pervading  philosophy. 
All  this,  however,  is  not  without  collision  and  conflict — many 
minds  resist  with  vehemence.  Passions  are  roused  and  mu- 
tual denunciations  hurled  abroad,  yet  the  current  sets  steadily 
forward,  till,  startled  at  the  portentous  visage  of  their  own 
opinions,  as  seen  in  an  ally  or  as  portrayed  by  an  adversary, 
men  recoil  under  some  new  leader  and  recommence  a  similar 
cycle  of  debate  and  denunciation. 

He  must  have  overmuch  confidence  in  his  own  sagacity 
w'ho  can  hope  to  arbitrate  between  these  conflicting  claims  of 
Science  and  Theology.  While  charges  of  Atheism  or  impiety 
on  the  one  hand  are  met  by  accusations  of  ignorance  and  su- 
perstition on  the  other,  it  is  evident  that  neither  is  in  a  temper 
to  accommodate  or  compromise  differences.  But  we  may 
predict  what  means,  though  often  tried,  will  prove  insufficient 
to  this  end,  and  we  may  at  the  same  time  suggest  a  remedy 
which  might  be  simple  and  efficacious.  It  is  sometimes  pro- 
posed that  all  attempts  to  reconcile  Science  and  Religion  shall 
be  abandoned,  the  naturalist  holding,  perchance,  that  it  is  im- 
practicable,— the  supernaturalist,  that  the  very  attempt  is  an 
indignity  to  the  sacred  interests  of  Religion.     Such  persons 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  1 39 

forget  that  the  attempt  to  harmonize  different  systems  of  truth 
is  one  from  which  the  human  mind  cannot  refrain,  since  it  is 
an  innate  and  irrepressible  conviction  of  that  mind  that  all 
truth  is  one,  is  pervaded  by  some  all-comprehending  principle 
of  unity  and  correspondence ;  and  it  can  never  rest  till  that 
bond  has  been  discovered  and  every  branch  of  human  knowl- 
edge has  been  made  to  take  its  place  in  some  symmetrical 
system.  This  striving  after  unity  in  truth  is  probably  but  an 
effort  to  vindicate  the  unity  of  God  himself,  and  may  spring 
from  an  intuitive  perception  of  that  great  religious  truth. 
These  same  persons  forget,  too,  that  the  attempt  to  divorce 
entirely  these  two  great  branches  of  knowledge  from  one 
another  would,  if  successful,  be  fraught  with  evil  to  both. 
Science,  pursued  without  reference  to  Religion,  tends  down- 
wards to  skepticism,  fatalism,  and  sensualism.  Theology, 
studied  without  regard  to  the  principles  of  a  sound  philoso- 
phy, becomes  loose,  dogmatic,  and  intolerant. 

On  the  other  hand,  any  attempt  to  amalgamate  them  must 
prove  hereafter,  as  it  has  always  proved,  injurious  to  both.  If 
Religion,  considered  as  a  mere  theory  and  as  distinct  from 
practical  piety,  predominate,  it  will  render  Science  timid  and 
time-serving,  or  wild  and  unmethodical.  If  Philosophy  pre- 
dominate, Religion  will  become  its  supple  slave,  and  instead  of 
speaking  to  man  in  tones  of  solemn  authority,  it  will  aspire 
only  to  the  rank  of  humble  counsellor ;  man  will  become  the 
god  of  his  own  idolatry,  and  religious  faith  but  the  assent 
of  his  understanding  to  its  own  independent  perceptions  or 
deductions. 

It  is  believed  that  the  only  safe  course  is  to  leave  each  in 
undisturbed  possession  of  its  own  province,  and  to  encourage 
each  to  explore  that  province  in  the  free  use  of  its  own 
methods  and  instruments, — the  province  of  philosophy  being, 
first,  an  inquiry  into  the  grounds  and  principles  of  all  truth; 
secondly,  the  investigation  of  particular  truths  in  respect  to 
second  causes :  the  province  of  theology  being  an  inquiry  into 


140 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


the  existence,  nature,  and  relations,  to  his  creatures  or  to 
second  causes,  of  the  First  Cause.  The  methods  or  instru- 
ments of  investigation  in  Philosophy  being  intuition,  observa- 
tion, and  reasoning  directed  mainly,  though  not  entirely,  to 
Nature:  the  methods  in  Theology  being  intuition,  observa- 
tion, interpretation,  and  reasoning,  directed  both  to  Nature 
and  to  Revelation.  All  danger  from  the  utmost  latitude  of 
investigation  would  disappear,  if  philosophers  and  theologians 
could  remember  a  few  simple  facts.  First,  the  philosopher 
should  remember  that  though  it  is  his  province  and  privilege 
to  investigate  causes  and  first  principles,  he  always  remains  a 
moral  and  accountable  being,  and  that  he  is  solemnly  bound 
to  render  judgment  according  to  evidence,  without  fear,  favor, 
or  partiality;  that  he  cannot  approach  so  high  a  duty  prop- 
erly unless  he  have  a  serious  and  candid  frame  of  mind  ;  and 
that,  as  the  human  soul  is  finite  and  the  world  of  truth  infinite, 
he  cannot  fail,  whatever  line  of  investigation  he  takes,  to  reach 
ere  long  some  limit  beyond  which  all  will  be  vague  conjecture 
or  presumptuous  dogmatism,  and  that  at  that  limit  he  must 
be  content  to  wonder  and  adore.  If  God  has  spoken,  how- 
ever, on  such  subjects,  he  must  be  willing  to  bow  in  implicit 
faith  before  an  understanding  which  cannot  err  and  will  not 
mislead.  On  the  other  hand,  the  theologian  must  recollect 
that  though  it  is  his  province  to  study  the  highest  of  all 
themes,  and  to  do  it  with  the  aid  of  peculiar  light,  he  still 
remains  a  rational  being,  the  processes  of  whose  mind,  if  they 
would  conform  to  truth  or  carry  conviction  to  others,  must 
be  directed  by  the  same  logical  and  philosophical  rules  that 
direct  the  humblest  inquirer.  If  these  two  maxims,  simple 
as  they  appear,  were  once  observed,  all  occasion  for  conflict 
between  Philosophy  and  Theology  would  gradually  disappear; 
it  would  be  seen  that,  though  each  has  its  own  independent 
domain,  they  still  co-operate  in  one  common  pursuit  of  truth, 
and  that  each  can  render  to  the  other  most  essential  aid,  while 
it  has  nothing  to  apprehend  from  that  other's  growing  favoi 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  I^I 

with  men,  or  its  extended  and  still  extending  influence  in  the 
realms  of  knowledge  and  thought. 

To  render  this  more  apparent  we  will  consider  for  a  mo- 
ment the  relations  of  Science  both  to  Natural  and  to  Revealed 
Religion. 

Let  us  premise,  however,  that  by  Science  or  Philosophy 
(for  I  use  the  terms  here  as  synonymous)  we  understand  the 
whole  sum  of  human  knowledge  and  speculation,  as  the  same 
has  been  gathered  and  digested  into  books  and  systems  by 
the  learned  and  wise.  There  is  an  immense  amount  of  prac- 
tical wisdom  which  has  no  definite  place  in  books  or  systems, 
though  it  is  exceedingly  useful  in  life.  This,  of  course,  is  not 
comprehended  in  what  we  here  term  science  or  philosophy. 
As  the  result  of  all  researches  and  investigations  up  to  this 
time,  there  is  an  assemblage  of  truths  and  of  approximations 
to  truth  respecting  man  and  nature  which  is  far  from  consti- 
tuting the  one  only  system  of  universal  truth,  but  which  must 
approach  to  it  nearer  in  proportion  as  reason  has  been  developed, 
in  proportion  as  the  principles  and  true  ends  of  philosophy 
have  been  comprehended,  and  the  methods  and  instruments 
of  investigation  perfected  and  applied.  To  this  assemblage 
of  truths  and  theories  we  give  the  name  of  Science  or  Phi- 
losophy. It  comes  before  us  under  different  phases.  In  one 
school  it  confines  itself  to  the  positive  and  phenomenal, — to 
that  which  can  be  ascertained  and  verified  by  precise  induc- 
tions from  observed  facts.  In  another,  there  is  more  depend- 
ence on  intuitive  notions,  on  instinctive  feelings,  and  irrepress- 
ible beliefs.  It  deals  less  with  facts  and  observed  connections, — 
more  with  ultimate  causes  and  principles ;  and  has,  on  that 
account,  gained  the  name  sometimes  of  metaphysical  or 
speculative,  sometimes  of  spiritual  or  transcendental,  philoso- 
phy. Each  of  these  again  has  two  phases.  On  the  one  hand, 
Inductive,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called.  Empirical  Philosophy, — 
the  philosophy  of  facts  clearly  represented  to  sense  or  to  con- 
sciousness,— may  repudiate  all  innate  ideas  and  spontaneous 


J. 2  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

emanations  of  thou^dit  with  Locke  in  mental  philosophy  or 
with  Comte  in  Physical  Science ;  or  it  may  insist  upon  them 
with  Coleridge  while  treating  of  the  former,  or  with  Whewell 
while  exploring  the  Philosophy  of  all  the  Inductive  Sciences. 

So   metaphysics   may  confine   itself  to   the  sensuous  with 
Aristotle  or  embrace  the  supersensuous  with  Plato. 

In  religion  we  shall  find  the  same  diversity, — some  being 
disposed  to  approach  it  primarily  with  the  understanding,  and 
to  scrutinize  it  in  a  free  and  critical  spirit ;  others  being  in- 
clined to  contemplate  it  mainly  through  the  medium  of  the 
sentiments  and  affections,  and  with  a  reverent,  unquestioning 
spirit.  Each  of  these  systems — whether  of  Science  or  of  The- 
ology— will  be  likely  to  come  into  conflict  with  its  counter- 
part or  antagonist.  Positive  physical  science  and  metaphysi- 
cal philosophy  often  evince  the  want  of  mutual  sympathy  in 
respect  to  each  other.  In  like  manner  spiritual  or  ideal  phi- 
losophy, whether  applied  to  the  inductive  sciences  or  to 
metaphysics,  looks  down  with  contempt  on  the  merely  em- 
pirical and  physical ;  and  the  latter  is  not  slow  to  reciprocate 
the  scorn.  So  it  is  with  what  may  be  termed  the  spiritual  and 
rationalistic  schools  in  theology,  though  here  again  there  is  a 
marked  difference  and  want  of  congeniality  between  those 
whose  reverence  is  directed  toward  the  divine  authority  of 
Scripture  simply  and  those  who  adopt  any  visible  exponent 
of  the  Word.  Whether  in  tradition  or  in  Church  authority,  as 
among  the  rationalistic,  there  is  a  wide  difference  between 
those  who  would  apply  freely  to  the  investigation  of  religious 
truth,  bowing,  however,  always  to  the  clear  decisions  of  Rev- 
elation, and  those,  on  the  other  hand,  who  think  those  de- 
cisions, however  clearly  defined  by  the  laws  of  exegesis,  may 
still  be  modified  to  render  them  congruous  with  the  inde- 
pendent deductions  of  reason  and  experience.  In  the  attempt 
to  harmonize  Science  and  Religion,  these  opposing  tendencies 
in  each  must  evidently  complicate  the  problem.  It  is  worthy 
of  remark,  that  hitherto  each  has  suffered  quite  as  much  from 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  1 4^ 

the  rashness  of  friends  as  from  the  violence  of  foes.  The 
fondness  of  the  philosophic  world  for  its  own  theories  and 
speculations  has  prompted  it  to  slight  the  claims  of  Revealed 
and  Natural  Religion,  as,  on  the  other  hand,  the  hasty  and 
unmeasured  resentment  which  good  men  have  conceived 
against  the  bold  conclusions  of  Science  have  tended  to  diffuse 
and  perpetuate  a  dread  of  philosophic  studies. 

The  friends  of  Revelation,  too,  in  their  anxiety  to  avert 
what  they  consider  imminent  danger  to  precious  truth,  some- 
times hazard  interpretations  of  the  sacred  volume  which  are 
untenable,  and  lay  down  dogmas  in  Science  which  betray  the 
utmost  degree  of  ignorance  and  presumption. 

On  the  opposite  side,  the  votary  of  Science  displays  a  flip- 
pancy, in  regard  to  Revelation  and  the  protests  and  reclama- 
tions which  its  friends  advance,  that  evinces  equal  arrogance 
and  weakness.  Happy  the  man  whose  comprehensive  mind 
and  generous  love  of  truth  dispose  him  to  accept  of  light  from 
whatever  quarter,  and  who  believes  that  whether  it  flow 
directly  from  the  sun  at  noonday  or  come  to  him  after  being 
reflected  from  other  objects  celestial  or  terrestrial,  or  though 
it  be  shed  upon  him  from  a  glimmering  taper,  it  is  essentially 
the  same  elemental  substance,  and  is  ever  the  enemy  of  that 
darkness  which  is  but  another  name  for  evil !  And  he  is  strong 
in  the  confidence  that  ultimately  truth  of  every  kind  will  be 
found  to  harmonize  with  truth, — that  Natural  and  Supernatu- 
ral will  be  found  radiant  alike  with  blessing  to  man  and  Glory 
to  God. 

I.    SCIENCE   AND    NATURAL    RELIGION. 

What,  then,  is  the  relation  between  Science  and  Natural  Re- 
ligion? It  is  becoming  common  for  scientific  writers  to  rep- 
resent Natural  Theology  as  a  superstructure  raised  on  the 
sole  basis  of  scientific  inductions,  and  especially  physical  in- 
ductions. Thus  Powell,  an  eminent  mathematician,  in  his 
work  on  the  Connection  of  tJie  Natural  and  Divine  Truth,  declares 
in  terms  that  "the  speculations  of  physical  science  afford  the 


144  "^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

only  legitimate  and  substantial  ground  on  which  a  reasoning 
inquirer  can  build  his  most  sublime  proofs  of  the  existence 
and  attributes  of  the  Divine  Being."  "  In  rejecting,"  he  says, 
"  the  evidence  of  inductive  science,  we  are  rejecting  that  of 
Natural  Theology."  If  he  had  said  that  tvhcn  we  employed 
scientific  induction  as  the  basis  of  our  reasonings  in  Natural 
Theology,  the  validity  of  the  latter  must  depend  upon  the 
legitimacy  of  the  former,  no  exception  could  be  taken  to  his 
views ;  but  his  language  evidently  implies  much  more  than 
this :  it  implies  that  science,  and  especially  physical  science, 
affords  the  only  "rational"  grounds  for  Natural  Theology. 
Who  does  not  see  the  fallacy  of  this  position  ?  Were  man- 
kind utterly  without  valid  proofs  of  the  Divine  existence  and 
attributes  until  modern  Inductive  Science  had  supplied  them  ? 
Was  it  only  sophistry  that  convinced  the  sages  of  old  of  these 
great  truths  ?  When  Socrates,  in  his  conversation  with  Aris- 
todemus,  so  clearly  expounds  the  argument  from  final  causes, 
was  that  argument  essentially  vitiated  by  his  ignorance  of  the 
doctrines  of  modern  Astronomy  or  Geology?  or  was  it  neces- 
sary that  he  should  have  been  familiar  with  the  discoveries 
and  speculations  of  modern  Physiology  before  he  and  those 
who  heard  him  could  be  certified  of  the  logical  soundness  of 
the  following  argument  ?  "  Is  not  that  Providence,"  says  Soc- 
rates,—  as  reported  in  the  Memorabilia, —  "is  not  that  Provi- 
vidence,  Aristodemus,  in  a  most  eminent  manner  conspicuous, 
which,  because  the  eye  of  man  is  so  delicate  in  its  contexture, 
hath  therefore  prepared  eyelids,  like  doors,  whereby  to  secure 
it, — which  extend  of  themselves  whenever  it  is  needful  and 
again  close  when  sleep  approaches  ?  Arc  not  those  eyelids, 
provided  as  it  were  with  a  fence  on  the  edge  of  them,  to  keep 
off  the  winds  and  guard  the  eye  ?  Even  the  eyebrow  itself 
is  not  without  its  office ;  but  as  a  penthouse  is  prepared  to 
turn  off  the  sweat  which,  falling  from  the  forehead,  might 
enter  and  annoy  that  no  less  tender  than  astonishing  part  of 
us.     Is  it  not  to  be  admired,  too,  that  the  ears  should  take  in 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  I^c 

sounds  of  every  sort  and  yet  be  not  too  much  filled  by  them? 
that  the  foreteeth  of  the  animal  should  be  formed  in  such  a 
manner  as  is  evidently  best  suited  for  the  cutting  of  its  food, 
as  those  on  the  side  are  for  grinding  it  in  pieces  ?  that  the 
mouth,  through  which  this  food  is  conveyed,  should  be  placed 
so  near  the  nose  and  the  eyes  as  to  prevent  the  passing  unno- 
ticed whatever  is  unfit  for  nourishment,  while  Nature,  on  the 
contrary,  hath  set  at  a  distance  and  concealed  from  the  senses 
all  that  might  disgust  or  in  any  way  offend  them  ?  And  canst 
thou  still  doubt,  Aristodemus,  whether  a  disposition  of  parts 
like  this  should  be  the  work  of  chance  or  of  wisdom  and  con- 
trivance ?" 

Happily  the  tokens  of  Divine  existence  and  perfection  have 
been  written  so  plainly  on  the  face  of  Nature  that  he  who 
knows  little  of  the  wonders  of  Inductive  Philosophy  can  still 
assure  himself  of  the  great  truths  of  Natural  Religion.  The 
harmony  and  order  which  evidently  characterize  so  many  of 
the  changes  around  him,  and  the  marks  of  intelligence  and 
wise  adaptations  which  abound  everywhere,  are  conclusive, 
and  justly  conclusive,  with  thousands  who  know  nothing  of 
Science.  Otherwise,  men's  power  of  discerning  God,  and  the 
obligations  which  result  from  our  relations  to  Him,  would 
depend  on  their  geographical  position  or  on  the  age  in  which 
they  live.  They  who  now  live  without  the  circle  which  sepa- 
rates the  civilized  from  the  uncivilized  portions  of  the  Earth, 
or  they  in  Christendom  who  died  before  the  discoveries  which 
have  rendered  modern  philosophy  so  illustrious,  would  be 
able  to  justify  their  unbelief  and  impiety  by  their  ignorance. 
Not  so  reasons  Paul ;  for,  says  he,  speaking  of  ancient  Pa- 
gans, "  the  invisible  things  of  God  are  clearly  seen,  being  un- 
derstood by  the  things  that  are  made."  Not  so  reason  even 
the  rude  barbarians  who  dwell  amid  Arctic  snow.  Said  a 
Greenlander,  "  It  is  true  that  we  were  ignorant  heathen,  and 
knew  little  of  a  God  till  you  came ;  but  you  must  not  imagine 
that  no  Greenlander  thinks  of  these  things.     A  kajak  (boat), 

lO 


146 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


with  all  its  tackle  and  implements,  cannot  exist  but  by  the 
labor  of  man,  and  one  who  does  not  understand  it  would  spoil 
it ;  but  the  meanest  bird  requires  more  skill  to  make  it  than 
the  best  kajak,  and  no  man  can  make  a  bird.  There  is  still 
more  skill  required  to  make  a  man  !  By  whom,  then,  was 
he  made  ?  He  proceeded  from  his  parents, — they  from  their 
parents ;  but  some  one  must  have  been  the  first  parents. 
Whence  did  they  proceed  ?  Common  report  says  that  they 
grew  out  of  the  earth.  If  so,  why  do  not  men  still  grow  out 
of  the  earth  ?  and  whence  came  the  earth  itself,  the  sun,  the 
moon,  and  the  stars  ?  Certainly  there  must  be  some  Being 
who  made  all  these  things, — a  Being  more  wise  than  the  wisest 
man." 

But  would  we  teach  that  Natural  Theology,  because  not 
entirely  dependent  on  Inductive  Philosophy,  is  therefore  alto- 
gether independent  of  all  Science  and  all  Philosophy  ?  Far 
from  it.  It  may  be  greatly  indebted  to  several  branches  of 
Philosophy,  and  needs  their  aid.  It  needs,  for  example,  the 
aid  of  logic  to  scrutinize  its  grounds  and  methods  of  reason- 
ing, and  to  exclude  those  fallacies  which  not  only  vitiate  its 
conclusions  but  awaken  prejudice  in  the  minds  of  acute  and 
thinking  men.  It  needs  the  aid  of  Inductive  Science,  whether 
physical,  intellectual,  or  moral. 

Every  general  law  established  by  induction  in  some  way 
illustrates  an  attribute  of  the  Deity,  and  thus  adds  strength  and 
imprcssiveness  to  the  simple  arguments  furnished  by  ordinary 
experience.  The  more  comprehensive  these  generalizations 
become,  the  more  do  they  tend  to  teach  the  unity  of  the  Di- 
vine Mind,  and  the  wider  the  space  over  which  they  sweep  and 
the  remoter  the  periods  in  the  dim  past  to  which  they  conduct 
us,  the  more  conclusive  the  inductive  proofs  they  furnish  of 
the  Divine  immensity  and  immutability.  A  simple  fact,  such 
as  the  structure  of  a  reed  or  quill,  might  teach  Galileo  the 
existence  of  a  God ;  but  it  needs  those  sublime  inductions 
which  were  built  up  by  his  memorable  labors,  united  with 


CRITICAL  DISCUSSIONS.  j^y 

theirs  who  preceded  and  followed  Him.  It  needs  these  to  fill 
the  mind  with  yet  more  worthy  thoughts  of  the  Being  who 
planned  and  built  and  still  maintains  a  universe  so  glorious. 
Hence  it  is  perfectly  true,  that  with  every  advance  in  In- 
ductive Philosophy  new  light  will  be  cast  on  the  doctrines  of 
Natural  Religion.  The  evidence  on  which  they  rest  is  already 
sufficient  to  command  assent ;  but  their  outline  embraces  vast 
space  and  a  boundless  multitude  of  objects  and  truths.  In 
proportion  as  these  are  better  understood  they  will  be  found 
more  and  more  rich  in  striking  illustrations  of  truths  already 
received,  but  with  a  too  torpid  acquiescence, — truths  which 
need  the  light  and  interest  of  such  illustrations  to  verify  them 
and  to  make  them  objects  of  cordial  regard.  Hence  the  ar- 
gument of  Natural  Theology,  although  complete  in  its  essential 
parts,  will  need  to  be  reconstructed  from  time  to  time,  that  it 
may  embody  these  new  discoveries  of  natural  truth.  The 
rapid  progress  of  physical  and  physiological  Science,  since 
Paley's  time,  has  justified  the  reproduction  of  his  admirable 
work,  with  copious  notes,  embracing  recent  discoveries  by 
Lord  Brougham  and  Sir  Charles  Bell.  The  same  cause  has 
given  birth  to  the  Bridgewater  Treatises,  which  aim,  especially, 
at  an  application  to  religious  uses  of  the  triumphs  that  have 
been  won,  during  the  last  century,  in  every  field  of  inductive 
inquiry, — more  particularly  in  that  which  is  physical.  These 
must  in  their  turn  become  in  a  measure  obsolete,  as  Chemis- 
try, Physics,  and  Physiology  gain  new  positions  and  a  deeper 
insight  into  nature,  though  no  lapse  of  time  can  shake  the 
justness  of  much  of  their  reasoning  nor  the  pertinency  and 
beauty  of  many  of  their  illustrations.  The  progress  of  Moral 
and  Social  Science  supplies  in  like  manner  a  new  fund  of  ma- 
terial from  which  writers  have  not  yet  drawn  with  much  co- 
piousness, though  it  is  in  many  respects  pre-eminently  fitted 
to  furnish  impressive  and  convincing  proofs  of  the  moral  per- 
fections of  the  Deity,  of  the  solemn  relations  He  sustains  to 
us,  and  of  the  retribution  we  may  expect  at  his  hands.     Let 


148 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


US,  then,  welcome  each  new  laborer  in  a  vineyard  which  can- 
not be  too  well  tilled,  and  which  is  destined  to  yield  riches 
not  yet  conceived  of  in  our  philosophy. 

It  has  been  objected  to  this  extended  array  of  natural  truths 
in  illustration  of  the  Divine  character  and  will,  that  it  is  super- 
fluous, since  "  the  simple  argument  of  Cicero,  with  his  slight 
physiological  knowledge,  is  as  convincing  (says  a  writer  from 
whom  I  quote*)  as  the  minute  treatises  of  Paley  and  Buck- 
land,  and,  indeed,  more  so,  since  the  array  and  minuteness  of 
proof  in  the  treatises  of  the  latter  authors  are  apt  to  engender 
that  very  skepticism  which  they  were  designed  to  cure."  The 
same  writer  contends  that  "  much  attention  to  that  evidence 
which  we  derive  from  Physical  Science  is  indicative  of  a  skep- 
tical rather  than  a  believing  age."  And  he  stigmatizes  the 
attempts  which  are  often  made  to  demonstrate  the  harmony 
of  the  Bible  with  Natural  Science  "  as  attempts  that  can  only 
provoke  the  sneer  of  the  sagacious  infidel,  regarding  them,  as 
he  must,  as  evidence  of  an  uneasy,  dissatisfied  faith."  To 
these  remarks,  which  imply  a  threefold  objection,  we  answer — 
1st.  That  though  the  argument  of  Cicero  may  have  been  con- 
clusive, its  brevity  prevents  its  full  effect  on  the  mind ;  and 
that  hence  we  need  the  copious  instances  furnished  by  mod- 
ern writers,  and  especially  by  modern  scientific  discoveries,  to 
awaken  attention.  We  need  them  not  so  much  to  prove  as 
to  render  proof  impressive  and  influential.  As  to  the  tend- 
ency of  an  array  and  minuteness  of  proof  to  engender  skep- 
ticism, this  will  depend  altogether  on  the  manner  in  which  the 
arguments  are  stated.  If  they  are  put  forth  timidly,  as  if  the 
author  felt  at  every  step  that  he  is  treading  on  doubtful 
ground,  the  effect  may  well  be  such  as  the  objector  alleges. 
But  how  is  it  with  Paley  ?  Does  he  write  in  this  spirit  ?  To 
use  his  own  language:  "  Were  there  no  example  in  the  world 
of  contrivance  except  that  of  the  eye,  it  would  be  alone  suffi- 

*  Dr.  Tayler  Lewis. 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


149 


cient  to  support  the  conclusion  which  we  draw  from  it  as  to 
the  necessity  of  an  intelligent  Creator."  "  The  proof  is  not  a 
conclusion  that  lies  at  the  end  of  a  chain  of  reasoning,  of 
which  chain  each  instance  of  contrivance  is  only  a  link,  and 
of  which  if  one  link  fails  the  whole  falls,  but  it  is  an  argument 
separately  supplied  by  every  separate  example.  An  error  in 
stating  an  example  affects  only  that  example.  The  argument 
is  cumulative  in  the  strictest  sense." 

2d.  In  ascribing  the  many  works  of  the  present  age  on 
Natural  Theology  to  a  skeptical  rather  than  to  a  believing 
spirit,  the  critic  seems  to  have  overlooked  one  or  two  impor- 
tant facts : — First,  the  amazing  progress  of  natural  Science 
during  the  last  half-century  has  contributed  to  render  earlier 
works  on  Natural  Religion  obsolete.  In  the  second  place,  in 
view  of  this  progress  of  physical  science  there  would  arise 
among  good  men  a  natural  desire  to  render  it  subservient  to 
the  honor  of  God ;  and  how  could  this  be  done  so  well  as  by 
exhibiting  Science  as  the  handmaid  of  Religion  ?  It  was  no 
uneasy,  dissatisfied  faith  that  led  Mr.  Lowell  and  the  Earl  of 
Bridc^ewater  to  make  their  munificent  offerings  to  this  cause. 
On  the  contrary,  the  one  expressly  declares  in  his  will  as  his 
motive  for  founding  these  Lectures,  his  deep  conviction  that 
"  the  most  certain  and  the  most  important  part  of  true  phi- 
losophy is  that  which  shows  the  connection  between  God's 
Revelation  and  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  implanted  by 
Him  in  our  nature."  The  other,  a  clergyman  of  the  Estab- 
lished Church  of  England,  firm  in  his  faith,  seems  only  anx- 
ious that  science  and  learning — "discoveries,  ancient  and 
modern,  in  arts,  sciences,  and  the  whole  extent  of  literature" — 
shall  have  the  privilege  of  serving  before  the  altar  of  the 
Christian's  God.  In  the  third  place,  let  me  remark,  that  the 
skeptical  writings  of  the  last  century — combined  with  other 
causes — had  imbued  many  of  the  students  of  physical  science, 
especially  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  with  the  poison  of  in- 
fidelity ;  and  that  poison  was  but  too  apt  to  distill  through 


ISO 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


their  writings.  They  were  by  no  means  slow  to  insist  upon 
every  development  in  Nature  which  might  be  made  to  appear 
inconsistent  with  Christianity  or  with  the  doctrine  of  final 
causes  as  apphed  to  reHgion.  To  neutrahze  the  effect  of  these 
speculations  required  such  works  as  this  objector  reprobates, — 
works  in  which  we  have  a  spectacle  that  one  might  suppose 
would  cheer  any  devout  mind, — the  spectacle  of  men  eminent 
among  the  Mathematicians,  Astronomers,  Chemists,  and  Nat- 
uralists of  the  age  consecrating  their  science  and  their  fame 
to  the  service  of  religious  faith.  If  this  be  an  age,  as  is  said, 
of  unprecedented  devotion  to  physical  studies,  and  if  the  tend- 
ency of  such  studies  be,  as  is  also  alleged,  to  sensualize  the 
mind  and  rob  it  of  its  highest  aspirations,  ought  we  not  to 
hail  every  effort  to  counteract  such  tendencies,  and  show  that 
jewels  can  be  extracted  even  from  the  head  of  the  most  un- 
sightly reptile  ?  The  writer  to  whom  I  especially  refer  repro- 
bates the  supercilious  air  so  often  assumed  towards  our  faith 
by  Physical  Science,  as  if  she  were  an  all-important  auxiliary, 
or  the  only  sufficient  defender  of  Religion.  Let  that  arro- 
gance be  rebuked,  but  let  no  disposition  which  science  may 
display  to  devote  her  powers  to  the  upbuilding  of  God's  Tem- 
ple be  repressed.  Instead  of  denouncing  such  multiplied 
attempts,  let  us  rather  welcome  them  as  indications  of  a  grow- 
ing sympathy  between  two  most  powerful  agents  in  the  great 
work  of  human  improvement, — as  a  reaction  against  that 
skeptical  spirit  which  not  long  since  made  the  terms  Savant  2Si^ 
Atheist  almost  synonymous  in  France,  and  too  often  applicable 
to  the  same  persons  in  England.  The  man  of  science  will 
never  want  respect  and  sympathy  in  the  ranks  of  unbelief. 
Conscious  that  their  cause  is  at  war  with  the  prevailing  senti- 
ments and  the  traditionary  convictions  of  mankind,  they  look 
for  countenance  and  support  to  philosophy.  That  they  have 
seemed  to  find  it  so  frequently  may  be  ascribed,  perhaps,  as 
much  to  the  ill-judged  opposition  which  science  has  encoun- 
tered at  the  hands  of  theologians  as  to  any  inherent  tendency 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  j  f  j 

of  science  itself  towards  skepticism.  If  the  man  whose  life 
is  spent  in  the  laborious  investigations  of  inductive  philoso- 
phy, in  an  honest  endeavor  to  enlarge  the  domain  of  human 
knowledge,  and  thereby  extend  our  moral  and  physical  re- 
sources ;  if  such  an  one  receive  only  reproach  and  maledic- 
tion from  those  who  claim  to  be  the  peculiar  friends  of  Divine 
truth ;  if  he  find  his  motives  misconceived,  his  labors  under- 
valued, and  the  whole  spirit  and  tendency  of  his  pursuits  mis- 
construed,— is  it  strange  that  he  should  feel  some  disgust  at 
the  injustice  ?  And  when,  on  the  other  hand,  he  turns  towards 
the  hosts  of  Infidelity  and  finds  that  they  cheer  him  forward 
with  smiles  and  loud  applauses  while  they  proclaim  them- 
selves the  exclusive  friends  of  free  inquiry,  is  it  strange  that 
he  should  sometimes  feel  tempted  to  cast  in  his  lot  with  those 
from  whom  at  the  very  moment  his  deepest  and  most  sacred 
sentiments  bid  him  recoil  ?  Groundless  jealousy,  among  the 
good,  in  regard  to  the  proper  tendency  of  scientific  studies, 
has  already  done  infinite  mischief  alike  to  Religion  and  to 
Philosophy.  But  this  mischief  it  can  do  still  more  effectually 
and  fatally  in  our  day.  Physical  Science  has  become  a  pal- 
pable and  prodigious  benefactor  of  mankind, — its  benefits  are 
augmenting  daily ;  it  has  quadrupled  the  power  of  human 
industry,  and  added  immensely  to  the  practical  efficacy  of 
every  kind  of  talent.  The  mass  of  men  are  now  convinced 
that  it  is  an  auxiliary  whose  services  are  not  only  valuable 
but  indispensable.  Is  it  wise  to  call  upon  them  to  regard  its 
methods  and  researches  as  the  enemy  of  sacred  truth,  or  as 
an  ally  whose  fidelity  is  always  to  be  suspected  ?  How  many 
revolting  against  such  appeals  may  find  themselves  tempted  to 
prefer  the  present  and  palpable  good  proffered  by  science  to 
the  spiritual  and  invisible,  though  infinitely  nobler,  blessings 
proffered  by  Religion!  What  multitudes  of  the  ignorant 
and  unreflecting  have  already  been  driven  into  the  foul  em- 
brace of  irreligion  by  hearing  that  science  lauded  by  Infidels 
which  they  have  heard  stigmatized  by  believers  ! 


152 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


Were  this  the  injudicious  course  of  the  bigoted  and  blinded 
alone,  it  would  threaten  less  injury;  but,  unhappily,  their 
senseless  cry  is  sometimes  caught  up  and  echoed  by  the 
learned  and  thoughtful.  There  is  a  mystical  theology, — the 
natural  reaction  from  a  cold  and  rationalizing  system, — which 
persuades  itself  that  it  does  God  service  even  when  denounc- 
ing God's  truth,  should  that  truth  have  been  discovered  with- 
out the  limits  of  the  Christian  fold  or  by  methods  not  theo- 
logical or  transcendental.  They  regard  theology  or  meta- 
physics not  only  as  the  paramount  study,  but  as  that  which 
may  claim  rightful  jurisdiction  overall  other  studies;  and  they 
look  on  inquiries  into  physical  causes  as  having  a  necessary 
tendency  to  unspiritualize  the  mind  and  to  fill  it  with  pride  and 
self-conceit.  How  are  they  to  be  disabused  of  this  mournful 
mistake?  How  is  the  mischief  that  they  are  about  to  inflict 
(none  the  less  effectual  because  their  intentions  are  good)  to 
be  averted  ?  How  is  the  skeptic  to  be  deprived  of  the  ex- 
ceedingly specious  argument  which  he  founds  on  the  fact  that 
he  is  a  better  friend  to  philosophy  and  science  than  the  Chris- 
tian ?  How  are  the  ignorant  and  unreflecting  to  be  won  back 
from  the  sore  delusion  now  possessing  so  many, — that  if  they 
admit  religious  faith  to  a  dominion  over  their  minds  they 
must  forego  the  benefits  and  prospects  which  they  associate 
with  advancing  Science?  How  are  they  to  be  established  in 
the  conviction  so  just,  so  accordant  with  all  reason  and  all 
history,  that  our  holy  religion  is  the  friend  of  all  truth, — the 
generous  patron  alike  of  Science  and  of  letters. 

I  answer,  that  the  means  are  various  ;  but  among  them  I 
cannot  but  reckon  as  important  the  study  of  Science  in  refer- 
ence not  only  to  physicalhnt  also  to  final  causes.  We  should 
be  taught  to  see  in  science  not  only  laws  but  adaptations,  and 
these  adaptations  should  be  considered  not  only  in  themselves, 
but  as  tokens  and  evidences  of  a  designing  mind. 

I  am  well  aware  of  the  confusion  which  was  formerly  in 
troduced  into  Inductive   philosophy  by  mistaking   final  for 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


153 


physical  causes,  by  supposing  that  we  had  accounted  for  phe- 
nomena when  we  had  discovered  their  uses  or  adaptations. 
But  all  danger  from  this  quarter  is  at  an  end.  The  distinction 
between  these  two  causes,  so  clearly  pointed  out  by  Bacon,  is 
now  so  rooted  in  the  minds  of  educated  men  that  there  is 
hardly  a  possibility  of  its  being  lost,  and  all  the  methods  of 
reasoning  and  research  in  physics  tend  to  perpetuate  it.  The 
danger  now  is  from  the  opposite  quarter.  When  Sir  Samuel 
Romilly  called  on  Diderot  in  Paris,  the  latter  complained  that 
the  English  mingled  theology  with  philosophy.  It  was  neces- 
sary, he  S3\d,dbrcrla  theologie.  After  mentioning  the  almost 
universal  prevalence  of  Atheism  among  the  philosophers  of 
France,  he  added,  that  Chancellor  Bacon  was  one  of  the 
greatest  men  England  ever  produced,  and  that  Bacon  said, 
"  causa  finalis  est  virgo  Deo  sacrata  qiicB  niliil  parity  It  is 
easy  to  perceive  here  an  entire  misconception  of  Bacon's  re- 
mark. In  imputing  barrenness  to  final  causes,  the  founder  of 
modern  philosophy  had  reference  only  to  their  power  of  un- 
folding physical  truths,  —  they  were  barren  in  respect  to  a 
knowledge  of  physical  lav/s.  But  Diderot  would  understand 
him  to  affirm  universal  sterility,  whereas  from  the  very  sentence 
he  quotes  it  is  evident  that  by  speaking  of  them  as  conse- 
crated like  the  vestal  virgins  to  the  service  of  God,  Bacon  would 
intimate  that  they  had  a  high  office,  even  that  of  keeping  alive 
in  the  human  heart  the  flame  of  religious  faith,  and  of  lead- 
ing our  thoughts  towards  that  great  Being  who  has  thus  made 
every  object  and  every  event  expressive  of  his  character  and 
will. 

Recoiling  from  the  confusion  produced  by  misapplying  final 
and  neglecting  physical  causes,  philosophers  have  tended, 
during  the  last  century,  towards  the  opposite  extreme.  In 
Physics,  they  have  omitted  the  consideration  of  uses  and 
adaptations  almost  entirely,  and  in  Physiology  they  have 
rarely  risen  above  them  to  the  proofs  which  they  offered  of 
Divine  Intelligence  and  Goodness.    To  theologians  and  others 


154 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


writing  professedly  on  religious  .subjects,  they  have  left  it  to 
make  those  applications  of  physical  truth  to  illustrate  the  Divine 
glory,  which  can  hardly  ever  be  misplaced,  and  which  have 
peculiar  force  when  they  occur  in  scientific  works,  and  in  im- 
mediate connection  with  the  orderly  exposition  of  laws  and 
principles.  It  will  be  an  auspicious  day  for  Religion  and  for 
Science  when  this  practice  ceases  and  the  scientific  writer 
recognizes  his  high  office  as  an  expounder  of  laws  emanating 
at  first  from  an  Almighty  and  All-wise  Legislator,  and  still 
directed  by  his  Providence  and  pervaded  by  his  energy.  Such 
a  course  will  do  much  to  wipe  away  the  reproach  which  now 
rests  on  Science  by  reason  of  her  silence  in  view  of  the  greatest 
wonders  she  unfolds.  It  will  accustom  the  student  of  Nature 
to  retain  God  in  all  his  thoughts,  and  to  cultivate  that  reverent 
and  yet  earnest  and  searching  spirit,  which  is  the  surest  guar- 
antee of  successful  inquiry. 

The  doctrine  of  final  causes  —  the  idea  that  every  part  of 
the  living  structure,  for  example,  has  an  end  and  use — has 
proved,  in  our  time,  to  be  the  great  torch  of  Physiologists. 
It  has  guided  a  Harvey  and  a  Cuvier  to  their  noblest  discov- 
eries ;  and  just  in  proportion,  it  seems  to  me,  as  the  inquirer 
recognizes  the  Divine  will  in  these  adaptations  and  endeavors 
to  catch  their  prevailing  spirit,  just  in  that  proportion  will 
they  serve  as  a  clue  to  new  discoveries.  When  he  stands  on 
the  line  that  separates  the  known  and  the  unknown,  and  is 
about  to  set  his  foot  on  untrodden  ground, — is  about  to  draw 
aside  the  veil  that  man's  eye  has  never  yet  pierced, — what  an 
awe  falls  upon  his  spirit !  How  lightly  docs  he  tread,  as  if 
the  place  were  holy !  and  with  what  trembling  hand  does  he 
expose,  even  to  his  own  view,  these  hidden  mysteries !  What 
is  this  but  a  secret,  unbidden  consciousness  that  something 
more  than  dead  nature  is  before  him  ?  and  why  should  not  a 
rational  being  like  man — especially  when  he  devotes  himself 
to  study — recognize,  of  choice  and  habitually,  that  Divine 
Presence  which  he  cannot  altogether  forget  ? 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


155 


In  order  to  cultivate  such  a  spirit  as  I  have  here  noticed,  we 
need  works  which  discuss  adaptations  as  well  as  laws,  and  which 
set  forth  these  adaptations  as  significant  tokens  of  the  Divine 
hand.  It  is  true  that  such  adaptations  have  been  unfolded  to 
a  greater  or  less  extent  in  all  the  works  on  Natural  Theology 
since  the  time  of  Ray  and  Desham.  But  these  works  are,  in 
a  great  measure,  fragmentary.  Each  writer  presents  so  much 
of  science  only  as  may  suit  his  more  immediate  purposes,  and 
this  he  presents  in  relations  very  unlike  those  which  the  same 
truths  maintain  in  regular  systems  of  Inductive  Philosophy. 
Such  works  as  I  suggest  would  exhibit  the  principles  of  each 
branch  of  knowledge  in  their  regular  order,  and  with  simple 
proofs  of  each  principle  would  connect  extended  illustrations 
of  its  uses  and  of  the  light  it  casts  on  the  Divine  Character. 
It  would  cultivate  in  the  reader  that  habit  of  seeing  God  in 
everything,  which  is  the  most  essential  element  of  true  piety. 
It  would  transform  Inductive  Science  from  a  science  of  things 
to  one  of  persons, — causing  it  to  speak  to  our  affections,  and 
even  to  our  conscience.  It  would  exhibit,  to  us  the  material 
world,  not  merely  as  it  is  in  itself,  but  as  it  is  in  its  relations 
to  God, — its  master-builder  and  keeper  —  and  to  man,  and 
countless  other  beings,  its  tenants, — tenants  endowed,  some 
only  with  faculties  to  feel  and  enjoy,  others  with  faculties  to 
investigate  and  act  as  well  as  enjoy.  It  would  thus  invest 
physical  laws  with  an  inexpressible  moral  interest,  and  put 
into  every  object  and  event  a  tongue  that  would  plead  with 
touching  and  solemn  eloquence  for  God  and  duty. 

Such  an  alliance  between  Science  and  Religion  could  injure 
neither,  and  would  benefit  both  ;  it  would  involve  no  sacrifice 
of  the  independence  of  either.  Science,  by  the  rigorous  use 
of  her  own  methods,  would  ascertain  facts  and  laws.  Religion 
would  trace  these  laws  in  their  connection  with  their  great 
Author.  Science  would  supply  to  Religion  illustration  and 
arguments.  Religion  would  repay  the  debt  by  shedding  on 
Science  her  own  humble  and  yet  earnest  spirit.    Science  would 


156  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

serve,  but  with  a  service  which  is  perfect  freedom.  Rch'gion 
would  command,  but  with  an  authority  that  seems  to  dehght 
in  condescending, — in  ministering  rather  than  in  being  minis- 
tered to.  It  would  be  union,  yet  each  would  retain  its  own 
rights  and  prerogatives ;  it  would  be  co-operation,  but  the  co- 
operation of  independent  powers, — each  sovereign  within  its 
own  limits,  but  each  rejoicing  to  offer  homage  to  a  common 
Parent  and  to  each  other.  The  skeptic  would  see  in  its  proof 
that  he  can  hope  nothing  to  his  cause  from  the  swelling  tri- 
umphs of  Inductive  Philosophy.  The  mystic  would  be  con- 
vinced that  the  most  spiritual  form  of  Christianity  can  incur 
no  danger  from  a  study  of  the  natural,  which  serves  thus  di- 
rectly to  lead  the  mind  to  the  supernatural.  He  would  see 
that  "next  to  the  word  of  God  the  most  certain  cure  for  su- 
perstition," to  use  the  language  of  Bacon,  "  as  well  as  the 
most  approved  aliment  of  faith,  is  Natural  Philosophy.  Well, 
therefore,  has  it  been  given  to  Religion  as  a  most  faithful  Ser- 
vant, since  the  one  makes  known  the  will,  the  other,  the  power 
of  God."  The  philosopher  would  be  reminded  continually 
that  there  is  something  higher  than  his  sublimest  generaliza- 
tions, and  the  theologian  would  be  taught  that  he  can  borrow 
from  philosophers  art  and  skill  whereby  to  turn  over  page 
after  page  of  new  revelations  in  respect  to  God's  eternal  Power 
and  Wisdom.  In  the  language  of  Boyle,"*"  "  Natural  Philoso- 
phy, like  Jacob's  vision,  discovers  to  us  a  ladder  whose  top 
reaches  up  to  the  footstool  of  the  throne  of  God."  "  Let  no 
man,"  says  Bacon,  "  upon  a  weak  conceit  of  sobriety  or  an 
ill-applied  moderation,  think  or  maintain  that  a  man  can 
search  too  far  or  be  too  well  studied  in  the  book  of  God's 
word  or  in  the  book  of  God's  works ;  but  rather  let  him  en- 
deavor an  endless  progress  or  proficience  in  both,  only  let 
men  beware  that  they  apply  both  to  charity  and  not  to  swell- 


*  Vol.  i.  p.  458,  fol. 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


157 


ing, — to  use  and  not  to  ostentation ;  and  again,  that  they  do 
not  unwisely  mingle  or  confound  these  learnings  together."* 


SCIENCE   AND    REVELATION. 

Having  offered  some  remarks  on  the  Connection  between 
Science  and  Natural  Religion,  we  proceed  now  to  examine 
the  relation  of  Science  to  Revealed  Religion. 

It  involves  questions  of  greater  delicacy  and  complexity 
than  any  we  have  yet  noticed :  how  far  Science  is  bound  to 
defer  to  Revelation ;  how  their  teachings,  when  seemingly 
discordant,  can  be  reconciled ;  whether  either  has  anything 
to  apprehend  from  the  prevalence  and  extension  of  the  other. 
These  are  questions  which  have  been  often  and  earnestly  dis- 
cussed, but  they  have  not  received  a  full  solution. 

As  usual,  the  most  extreme  and  contradictory  opinions 
have  been  maintained.  Some,  like  Hutchinson  and  his  fol- 
lowers (Bishop  Home,  Jones  of  Nayland,  and  Parkhurst),  have 
taught  that  the  Scriptures  are  a  text-book  not  only  in  Reli- 
gion and  morals,  but  also  in  Natural  Philosophy,  and  that  by 
the  light  which  Revelation  affords,  compared  with  their  own 
observations,  they  were  able  —  to  use  the  language  of  Bishop 
Home — "to  see  farther  into  the  constitution  of  the  Universe 
and  the  operations  carried  on  in  it  than  Sir  I.  Newton  him- 
self had  done."t  The  same  spirit  may  be  recognized  in  some 
of  the  speculations  of  Biblical  Geologists  in  our  own  day. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  maintained  not  only  by  skeptics  but 
by  some  Christian  philosophers,  that  to  "expect  or  to  wish  to 
find  in  Scripture  any  confirmation  of  the  results  of  inductive 
Science  to  attach  importance  to  the  accordance  between  the 
descriptive  or  poetical  language  of  the  Bible  and  the  conclu- 
sions  of  philosophy   on    the    one   hand,  or  to  consider  the 

*  Bacon's  Advancement  of  Learning,  Book  I. 
f  Bishop  Home's  Works,  vi.  p.  445. 


1^8  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

want  of  such  accordance  as  any  objection  on  the  other, — to 
seek  to  prop  up  the  credit  of  the  sacred  writers  on  the  verbal 
coincidences  with  physical  results  or  to  deny  that  there  is  es- 
sential discrepancy,  is  absurd,  and  that  the  best  way  is  boldly 
to  front  the  difficulty  and  avow  the  contradiction  in  plain 
terms."* 

Between  these  extreme  opinions  writers  will  be  found  in- 
clining to  one  or  the  other  in  every  degree  of  approximation. 
To  the  most  dispassionate  and  impartial  inquirer  the  subject 
cannot  but  present  itself  under  two  aspects  not  easily  recon- 
ciled. Recognizing  the  inspiration  and  Divine  authority  of 
the  Scriptures,  we  cannot  brook  the  suggestion  that  they  con- 
tain material  errors ;  yet,  in  proportion  as  we  study  the  la- 
borious inductions  of  modern  science,  we  cannot  but  perceive 
the  apparent  incompatibility  of  some  of  its  results  with  the 
most  generally  received  meaning  of  certain  passages  in  the 
Bible. 

The  difficulty  is  real,  and  can  hardly  fail,  at  times,  to  be 
embarrassing  and  painful.  To  dismiss  it  with  the  summary 
remark  that  the  Bible  was  not  given  to  teach  us  physical 
truth,  or  that  those  of  its  passages  which  are  at  variance  with 
the  conclusions  of  science  are  figurative,  or  are  mere  accom- 
modations to  prevailing  belief,  is  but  meagre  satisfaction.  In 
proportion  as  the  believer  feels  that  the  Scriptures  are  of  in- 
expressible importance  to  him  and  to  mankind,  in  the  same 
proportion  must  he  be  jealous  of  their  fair  fame  as  oracles  of 
God,  and  he  cannot  but  look  with  solicitude  on  any  portion 
of  them  which  sets  forth  not  merely  as  phenomenon  but  as 
fact  that  which  science  (physical  or  mental)  confidently  de- 
clares to  be  impossible.  He  cannot  be  dismissed  with  the 
trite  assurance  that  the  Bible  was  intended  to  be  a  teacher  of 
moral  and  religious  truth  only;  for  he  knows  not  how  far  the 
physical  facts  in  question  may  be  connected  with  moral  truth. 


*  Powell's  Connection  of  Natural  and  Divine  Truth,  pp.  237-247. 


CRITICAL  DISCUSSIONS. 


159 


On  the  other  hand,  the  unbehever  is  but  too  ready  to  fasten 
on  these  apparent  discrepancies, — to  magnify  them  into  radi- 
cal and  irreconcilable  contradictions,  and  to  proclaim  them  as 
convincing  evidence  that  the  Bible  is  a  book  of  fables,  and 
that  its  long-usurped  authority  must  soon  fall  before  the  ad- 
vancing light  of  Inductive  Philosophy. 

Nor  have  such  appeals  been  made  to  the  Physical  Sciences 
only, — History,  Archaeology,  Poetry,  Philosophy,  Hermeneu- 
tics,  all  have  been  appealed  to  for  ground  and  occasion  of  as- 
sault against  the  sacred  Records  ;  and  too  often  the  onset  is 
made  with  a  malignant  impetuosity  witnessed  nowhere  else  in 
literary  warfare.  When,  for  instance,  the  statements  of  Scrip- 
ture have  come  into  conflict  with  those  of  profane  authors,  a 
course  has  frequently  been  pursued  utterly  inconsistent  with 
candor  and  justice.  It  has  been  taken  for  granted  that  of  the 
two  conflicting  witnesses,  the  Biblical  witness  must  be  wrong 
and  the  secular  witness  must  be  right ;  that  both  are  entitled  to 
be  judged  by  the  same  rules;  that  the  a  priori  presumption  is 
at  least  as  strong,  for  example,  in  favor  of  the  Father  of  sacred 
as  in  favor  of  the  Father  of  profane  history ;  that,  until  con- 
victed of  forgery,  Moses  may  claim  as  much  at  least  of  credit 
as  Herodotus.  All  this  has  been  forgotten.  Moses  speaks, 
in  the  Pentateuch,  of  grapes  and  vineyards  in  Egypt,  and  his 
statement  is  corroborated  by  Diodorus,  by  Strabo,  by  Pliny, 
and  by  Athenaeus ;  yet,  inasmuch  as  Herodotus  and  Plutarch 
state  that  Egypt  was  without  vineyards,  their  negative  testi- 
mony was  seized  upon  not  only  as  sufficient  to  outweigh  the 
authority  of  the  sacred  historian,  but  as  sufficient  to  outweigh 
his  authority  with  that  of  four  profane  historians  superadded.* 
It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  among  the  ancient  subter- 
ranean inscriptions  which  have  been  lately  discovered  in 
Egypt,  occur  representations  of  the  whole  process  of  the  vin- 
tage,— from  the  dressing  of  the  vine  to  the  drawing  off  of  wine. 

*  Wiseman's  Science  and  Revealed  Religion,  p.  300.    Andover,  1837. 


l6o  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Before  the  freethinker  exults  in  this  anticipated  triumph 
over  the  downfall  of  Revelation,  would  it  not  be  well  for  him 
to  take  counsel  of  the  past  ?  That  great  teacher  has  instruct- 
ive admonitions  stored  up  for  minds  like  his ;  she  points  to 
instances  not  a  few  in  which  some  similar  discovery  has  been 
trumpeted  as  fatal  to  Revelation  ;  and  the  world  has  stood 
aghast  at  the  prospect  of  its  overthrow.  Now,  it  was  Bry- 
done,  reasoning  from  successive  layers  of  lava,  and  inferring 
that  twice  the  six  thousand  years  which  represent  the  age  ot 
the  world,  according  to  the  popular  understanding  of  Moses, 
must  have  elapsed  since  the  first  of  those  layers  was  depos- 
ited. Then  it  was  the  ill-fated  French  astronomer  Bailey,  pro- 
claiming that  in  the  ancient  astronomy  of  India  he  had  found 
conclusive  evidence  that  it  pointed  to  a  period  still  more 
remote,  and  that  tens  of  thousands  of  years  would  be  needed 
to  express  the  age  of  the  world.  To-day  a  sculptured  zodiac 
is  borne  in  triumph  from  the  sandy  plains  of  Egypt  to  the 
capital  of  France,  and  its  inscriptions  are  made  to  utter  another 
sentence  of  condemnation  on  the  chronology  of  Moses.  To- 
morrow the  far-off  realms  of  Cathay  are  appealed  to  in  order 
to  accomplish  the  same  purpose.  And  what  is  the  result? 
Christianity  has  not  yet  fallen, — its  way  has  not  even  been  re- 
tarded. The  far-famed  discovery  has,  in  each  case,  fretted  its 
brief  hour  on  the  stage  and  then  gone,  to  take  its  place  with 
the  unnumbered  phantoms  that  served  to  amuse  the  world 
before ;  for  it  has  been  found  that  its  supposed  discrepancy 
with  Revelation  was  apparent  only.  Is  it  not  well  to  learn 
wisdom  from  this  chapter  in  history? 

So,  again,  when  we  see  philosophers  who  do  not  affect  Infi- 
delity, but  who  profess  and  call  themselves  Christians, — when 
such  philosophers  are  found  manifesting  an  anxious  desire  to 
displace  the  supernatural  from  the  world  which  they  observe, — 
striving,  for  example,  to  obliterate  all  marks  of  catastrophe 
from  the  physical  history  of  the  Globe,  to  substitute  material 
for  spiritual  causes  in  explaining  all  the  functions  of  body 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  l6l 

and  mind,  and  repudiating  all  appeal  to  creative  power  except 
at  the  beginning  of  the  system, — of  such  philosophers  we 
cannot  help  saying  that  they  ought  not  to  wonder  should 
they  find  themselves  objects  of  suspicion.  They  deliberately 
shock  feelings  and  convictions,  in  regard  to  the  ever-present 
agency  of  the  Most  High,  which  are  deeply  rooted  in  the 
human  heart,  and  which  men  associate  with  their  most 
cherished  hopes.  They  often  do  this,  too,  without  cause, — 
when  the  affront  offered  to  old  and  venerable  beliefs  seems 
all  but  gratuitous.  Philosophers  might  easily  record  ob- 
served facts,  and  reason  upon  them  with  the  most  rigorous 
logic,  without  thus  obtruding  conclusions  or  suggestions  in  re- 
gard to  the  Divine  agency,  which  are  at  best  but  conjectural. 
More  especially  do  they  merit  censure  when,  on  the  ground 
of  partial  observation  and  crude  generalization,  they  hazard 
reflections  upon  the  integrity  or  authority  of  Scripture, — 
when  without  pausing  to  ask  whether  the  meaning  attached 
to  a  particular  passage  by  them,  or  by  current  interpretation, 
be  not  erroneous,  they  launch  forth  their  theory  of  interpo- 
lated or  uninspired  admixtures  with  the  sacred  text,  or  make 
these  discrepancies  an  occasion  for  calling  in  question  alto- 
gether the  Inspiration  of  the  Bible. 

Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  the  excessive  sensitiveness  with 
which  Theologians  and  Christians  frequently  look  upon  these 
apparent  discrepancies  between  the  Bible  and  Nature  might 
well  be  abated. 

It  would  be,  if  they  could  be  induced  deliberately  to  weigh 
the  following  considerations : 

1st.  That  the  construction  we  put  upon  such  parts  of  the 
Scriptures  as  are  supposed  to  be  at  variance  with  science  is 
not  always  above  dispute.  Nothing  is  more  difficult  than  to 
lay  down  a  Canon  of  interpretation  which  shall  clearly  define 
the  distinguishing  marks  of  that  in  the  Bible  which  is  literal 
as  contrastec|  with  that  which    is  figurative  or  phenomenal. 

II 


1 62  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

As  passages  once  received  for  literal  are  now  allowed  to  be 
phenomenal  {e.g.  those  which  represent  the  earth  as  the  centre 
of  the  solar  system),  so,  on  the  other  hand,  passages  which, 
in  modern  days,  we  regard  as  literal  were  in  the  earlier  ages 
of  the  Church  interpreted,  by  some  of  the  most  orthodox  of 
the  fathers,  as  figurative.  (For  example,  the  account  of  the 
six  days  of  creation,  which  Origen,  and  to  some  extent  even 
St.  Augustine,  regard  as  symbolic  of  the  new  spiritual  crea- 
tion.) We  should  remember,  then,  that  both  the  book  of 
Nature  and  the  book  of  Grace  are  written  in  characters  which 
are  not  yet  fully  deciphered ;  that  neither  Biblical  nor  physi- 
cal interpretation  is  yet  reduced  to  rules  of  perfect  precision 
or  of  unquestionable  authority, — the  logic  of  induction  being 
in  its  infancy  according  to  one  high  authority, — the  theory 
of  Hermeneutics  being  in  the  same  state  according  to  another. 
So  that  while  there  is  explicit  teaching  sufficient  to  guide 
every  humble  and  sincere  inquirer  in  the  way  of  duty,  there 
is  still  enough  of  obscurity  to  task  the  noblest  powers  of  the 
theologian  and  the  philosopher.  In  this  imperfect  state  of 
natural  and  supernatural  knowledge,  a  thousand  apparent  in- 
congruities may  embarrass  us,  which  are  destined  to  disap- 
pear before  the  advancing  light  of  discovery  as  thousands 
have  disappeared  already. 

We  should  especially  remember  that  the  language  em- 
ployed in  the  Scriptures  is  popular  rather  than  precise  or 
scientific, — that  the  sacred  writers,  in  order  to  be  intelligible, 
were  obliged  to  employ  terms  and  apply  allusions  according 
to  the  current  usage,  so  that  in  referring  to  terrestrial  or  celes- 
tial appearances  they  would  naturally  represent  events  rather 
as  they  appeared  to  the  ordinary  observer  than  as  they  were 
in  reality,  their  object  being  the  phenomenal  rather  than 
the  real. 

2d.  Should  we  not  also  consider  that  the  main  object  of  the 
Scriptures  is  to  teach  the  supernatural  as  distinguished  from 
the  natural,  the  moral  and  religious  as  contrasted  with  the 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


163 


physical  and  secular,  and  hence  that  obscurity  must  often  rest 
upon  the  latter,  which  has  been  dispelled  by  the  inspired 
word  from  the  former  ? 

3d.  Should  we  not  consider  that  in  our  present  state  we 
see  as  through  a  glass,  darkly,  that  we  discover  enough 
of  analogies  and  harmonies  between  the  Creator's  works  and 
word  to  believe  that  all  is  bound  together  by  one  common 
bond  of  correspondence  and  consistency ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  apparent  incongruities  are  permitted  to  rise  before  us, 
one  after  another,  to  task  our  investigating  powers,  to  exer- 
cise our  patience,  to  rebuke  our  intellectual  pride,  and  to 
enable  us  to  purchase  that  blessing  above  price  accorded  to 
those  who  not  having  seen  yet  believe  ?  There  is  no  science 
in  which  there  are  not  apparent  inconsistencies, — we  might 
almost  say  irreconcilable  contradictions.  Is  it  not  so  in 
Mathematics,  where  we  have  it  rigorously  demonstrated  that 
two  lines  can  approach  each  other  forever  and  yet  not  meet  ? 
Is  it  not  so  in  Metaphysics,  where  we  have  a  will  determined 
by  motive  and  yet  free  ?  Is  it  not  so  in  Theology,  where  we 
have  Divine  Foreknowledge  and  yet  a  special  Providence, 
Sovereignty  in  God  and  yet  responsibility  in  men,  Infinite 
benevolence  in  the  Creator  and  yet  evil  and  suffering  among 
his  creatures? 

But,  though  Science  and  Revelation  are  essentially  distinct 
as  it  respects  both  their  methods  and  their  objects,  yet  they 
can  mutually  aid  each  other.  Moral  Philosophy,  Philology, 
Ethnology,  Archaeology,  Physiology,  Physics,  each,  by  its 
own  independent  processes,  reaches  conclusions  which  tend  to 
corroborate  Revelation.  The  more  thoroughly,  for  example, 
we  consider  Moral  Science,  the  more  evident  it  becomes  that 
the  great  principles  of  Christian  Ethics,  whether  applied  to 
individuals  or  to  society,  are  founded  deep  in  man's  nature  and 
relations. 

So  the  more  thoroughly  we  explore  the  languages  of  the 
world,  and  trace  their  affinities  and  dependencies,  the  more 


164 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


correctly  we  can  interpret  the  inspired  records,  the  more  nu- 
merous are  the  coincidences  discovered  between  profane  and 
sacred  literature,  and  the  more  striking  the  confirmation  we 
receive  of  early  Sacred  History.  So  it  is  with  researches  into 
the  Natural  History  of  Man,  and  of  the  different  races  which 
have  inhabited  the  Globe.  Though  they  often  suggest  diffi- 
culties, they  generally  dissipate  them  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years,  while  they  supply  the  most  striking  and  unexpected 
illustrations  of  obscure  references  in  the  Bible.  And  even 
Physical  Science,  whether  it  explore  the  vast  or  the  minute, 
whether  it  trace  mechanical  and  other  actions  on  the  surface 
of  the  earth,  or  away  in  the  remotest  regions  of  space,  every- 
where alike,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter,  it  finds  facts  and  analo- 
gies which  lend  new  authority  to  our  Sacred  Books.  What- 
ever protests  may  be  entered  against  thus  appealing  to  Science 
in  support  of  Revelation,  it  is  quite  certain  that  it  will  con- 
tinue to  be  appealed  to  in  derogation  of  it.  No  stripling 
desires  to  have  a  tilt  with  Christianity  that  he  does  not  invoke 
the  aid  of  what  he  calls  science ;  and  the  confidence  with 
which  he  does  so  is  usually  in  the  direct  ratio  of  his  ignorance. 
Should  the  uninstructed  be  left  to  gather  their  impressions 
respecting  the  relation  between  Theology  and  Philosophy  from 
him?  Would  those  who  remonstrate  so  earnestly  against 
attempting  to  harmonize  Science  and  Revelation  require  that 
the  infidel  should  be  allowed  to  poison  his  weapons  at  these 
fountains,  while  the  believer  may  not  supply  an  antidote  ?  The 
skeptic  may  allege  that  profane  history  convicts  the  sacred 
writers  of  anachronisms ;  that  physiology  casts  discredit  on 
the  narrative  of  our  Saviour's  resurrection  ;  that  geology  and 
astronomy  both  carry  us  back  to  facts  that  prove  either  that 
Genesis  is  untrustworthy  or  that  nature  is  untrue  to  herself. 
And  may  not  the  believer  follow  him  to  question  his  asser- 
tions? May  he  not  examine  the  ground  on  which  they  rest, 
nor  rejoice  when  they  prove  worse  than  baseless?  Is  it  not 
well  alike  for  science  and   for  religion  that  the  world  has 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


165 


thought  differently  ?  Impatient  under  such  alleged  discrep- 
ancies between  the  records  of  nature  and  of  grace,  they  have 
demanded  renewed  inquiry  as  the  basis  of  renewed  and  more 
thorough  comparisons.  To  such  inquiry  the  most  profound 
scholars  and  philosophers  have  applied  themselves,  and  the 
result  is  seen  in  immense  accessions  to  the  treasures  of  science 
and  to  the  evidences  of  revealed  religion.  Had  the  opposite 
course  been  taken,  the  poisoned  weapons  would  have  been 
discharged, — many  an  uninformed  or  unsettled  mind  would 
have  imbibed  the  "  leprous  distillment."  In  the  absence  of 
any  antidote,  the  contagion  would  have  diffused  itself  silently, 
while  Infidelity  would  have  exulted  over  an  impotence  that 
could  not  answer,  an  apathy  that  would  not,  or  a  cowardice 
that  dared  not.  Thanks  to  the  wisdom  and  the  manly  courage 
that  have  espoused  a  different  policy. 

And  let  not  the  objector  say  that  he  would  have  Ancient 
History  and  Literature  invoked  in  confirmation  of  the  Bible ; 
he  only  protests  against  the  attempt  to  enlist  Natural  Science 
in  this  work.  It  would  puzzle,  I  apprehend,  the  most  in- 
genious of  these  objectors  to  draw  a  line  of  demarcation  be- 
tween questions  which  belong  to  Literature  and  Archaeology 
on  the  one  hand,  and  those  which  belong  exclusively  to  Phy- 
sical Science  on  the  other.  Take,  for  example,  the  con- 
troversies of  the  last  century  in  regard  to  the  astronomical 
systems  of  ancient  India  and  ancient  Egypt, — systems  which 
were  arrayed  against  the  Bible.  Could  their  merits  have  been 
thoroughly  investigated  by  any  except  astronomers  ?  The 
main  points  in  debate  were  problems  in  regard  to  the  past 
history  of  the  Heavens,  involving  mathematical  and  archae- 
ological difficulties,  which  could  be  solved  only  by  means  of 
scientific  calculations,  combined  with  antiquarian  research. 
Hence  it  was  that  many  of  the  most  eminent  astronomers  as 
well  as  archaeologists  of  the  time — Delambre,  Montucla,  Mas- 
kelyne,  Bentley,  Klaproth,  Heeren,  Cuvier — engaged  in  the  dis- 
cussion, and  to  their  joint  labors  the  world  was  indebted  for 


1 66  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

power  to  lay  the  portentous  spectre  that  science  falsely  so 
called  had  evoked. 

And  as  Science  can  aid  Revelation,  so  on  the  other  hand 
can  Revelation  aid  Science.  Considered  merely  as  an  an- 
cient record,  and  without  reference  to  its  divine  authority,  the 
Bible  has  the  highest  value, —  embodying  as  it  does  the  earliest 
recorded  traditions  respecting  the  physical  state  and  the  moral 
history  of  our  world.  It  also  inculcates  that  spirit  of  humility 
and  self-distrust,  that  patience  and  perseverance  in  the  pur- 
suit of  the  right  and  the  true,  which  are  hardly  less  necessary 
to  success  in  scientific  investigation  than  they  are  to  eminence 
in  virtue  and  piety.  The  devout  study  of  Revelation  must, 
moreover,  fasten  on  the  mind  a  conviction  of  the  Divine  unity, 
and  a  clear  perception  of  the  variety  as  well  as  uniformity  of 
the  Divine  operations, — feelings  which  serve  as  instructive 
guides  in  philosophical  inductions, — while  the  sense  of  an 
overruling  Providence,  which  they  keep  alive,  will  continually 
temper  the  boldness  of  speculation.  Then,  again,  obscure 
passages  in  Revelation  have,  in  some  instances,  suggested  in- 
quiries which  have  proved  rich  in  discovery,  and  even  in 
practical  benefit  to  mankind.  It  is  not  often,  we  must  admit, 
that  the  Bible  can  be  appealed  to  as  affording  formal  and  dis- 
tinct instruction  in  Physics, — never  as  superseding  the  need 
of  inductive  investigation, — nor,  when  that  investigation  has 
been  completed,  will  it  be  usually  safe  to  appeal  to  the  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  in  so  many  instances  figurative  and  popu- 
lar, as  sufficient  corroboration.  Still,  the  sacred  text  may 
suggest  salutary  doubts;  it  may  inspire  caution.  Often  it 
may  furnish  important  collateral  information.  It  may  ani- 
mate to  further  inquiry,  and  thus,  through  the  joint  agency  of 
physical  inductions  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  Biblical  inter- 
pretation on  the  other,  lessons  which  we  read  in  the  pages  of 
Nature  and  of  Revelation  will  be  found,  we  doubt  not,  to 
harmonize  more  and  more;  and  the  day  may  come  when 
even  man,  a  stranger  and  pilgrim  on  the  earth,  with  the  most 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  167 

contracted  sphere  of  observation,  shall  hear  but  one  anthem  of 
praise  ascending  to  God  from  all  his  works, — when  the  strains 
that  go  up  from  the  Temple  of  Science  shall  blend  sweetly 
with  those  that  go  up  from  the  Temple  of  Grace,  and  all  be 
lost  in  the  swelling  chorus,  "  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy 
works,  Lord  God  Almighty,— just  and  true  are  thy  ways, 
thou  King  of  Saints  !" 

In  the  mean  time,  let  not  the  friends  of  Revelation  insist 
too  strenuously  on  their  own  interpretation  of  disputed  texts. 
"  In  obscure  matters,"  says  St.  Augustine,  quoted  by  Whewell, 
"  and  things  far  removed  from  our  senses,  if  we  read  anything, 
even  in  the  Divine  Scripture,  which  may  produce  diverse 
opinions,  without  damaging  the  faith  which  we  cherish,  let 
us  not  rush  headlong  by  positive  assertion  to  either  the  one 
opinion  or  the  other,  lest  when  a  more  thorough  discussion 
has  shown  the  opinion  which  we  had  adopted  to  be  false,  our 
faith  may  fall  with  it,  and  we  be  found  contending  not  for  the 
doctrine  of  the  sacred  Scriptures  but  for  our  own ;  endeavor- 
ing to  make  our  doctrine  to  be  that  of  the  Scriptures,  instead 
of  taking  the  doctrine  of  the  Scriptures  to  be  ours." 

Nor  let  the  friends  of  Science,  on  the  other  hand,  demand 
too  early  that  the  current  exposition  of  these  disputed  pas- 
sages shall  be  changed.  "  When  a  demonstration,"  said  Car- 
dinal Bellarmine,  giving  his  opinion  on  the  great  Copernican 
controversy,  "  when  a  demonstration  shall  be  found  to  estab- 
lish the  earth's  motion,  it  will  be  proper  to  interpret  the 
Sacred  Scriptures  otherwise  than  they  have  hitherto  been 
interpreted  in  those  passages  where  mention  is  made  of  the 
stability  of  the  Earth  and  the  movement  of  the  Heavens." 
This  opinion  is  accepted  by  Mr.  Whewell,  in  his  Pldlosopliy  of 
the  Inductive  Sciences^  as  a  judicious  and  reasonable  maxim 
for  such  cases  in  general.  "So  long  as  the  supposed  scientific 
discovery,"  he  says,  "  is  doubtful,  the  exposition  of  the  mean- 

*  Vol.  ii.  p.  148. 


1 68  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

ing  of  Scripture  given  by  commentators  of  established  credit 
is  not  wantonly  to  be  disturbed;  but  when  a  scientific  theory, 
irreconcilable  with  this  ancient  interpretation,  is  clearly  proved, 
we  must  give  up  the  interpretation,  and  seek  some  new  mode 
of  understanding  the  passage  in  question  by  means  of  which 
it  may  be  consistent  with  what  we  know;  for  if  it  be  not,  our 
conception  of  the  things  so  described  is  no  longer  consistent 
with  itself" 

And  if  there  be  any  disinclined  to  entertain  these  com- 
parisons between  Science  and  Scripture,  and  bent  on  retaining 
the  literal  import  of  the  Sacred  text,  to  such  we  would  say,  in 
the  language  of  Kepler,*  "  I  beseech  my  reader  that,  not  un- 
mindful of  the  divine  goodness  bestowed  on  man,  he  do  with 
me  praise  and  celebrate  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator,  which  I 
open  to  him  from  a  more  inward  explication  of  the  form  of 
the  world  from  a  searching  of  causes,  from  a  detection  of  the 
errors  of  vision,  and  that  thus  not  only  in  the  firmness  and 
stability  of  the  earth  may  we  perceive  with  gratitude  the  pre- 
servation of  all  living  things  in  nature  as  the  gift  of  God, 
but  also  in  its  motion  so  recondite,  so  admirable,  we  may 
acknowledge  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator.  But  whoever  is  too 
dull  to  receive  this  Science,  or  too  weak  to  believe  the  Coper- 
nican  system,  without  harm  to  his  piety,  him,  I  say,  I  advise 
that,  leaving  the  school  of  astronomy,  and  condemning,  if  so 
he  please,  any  doctrines  of  the  philosophers,  he  follow  his 
own  path,  and  desist  from  this  wandering  through  the  uni- 
verse; and  that  lifting  up  his  natural  eyes,  with  which  alone 
he  can  see,  he  pour  himself  out  from  his  own  heart  in  worship 
of  God  the  Creator,  being  certain  that  he  gives  no  less 
worship  to  God  than  the  astonomer  to  whom  God  has  given 
to  see  more  clearly  with  his  inward  eyes,  and  who,  from 
what  he  has  himself  discovered,  both  can  and  will  glorify 
God." 


*  Whewell's  Bridgewatcr  Treatise,  p.  314. 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


169 


We  have  thus  set  forth  what  seems  to  be  a  fair  view  of  an 
embarrassing  and  much-debated  subject.  Reserving  many- 
details  till  we  come  to  confront  various  branches  of  Science 
with  Revelation,  we  have  intimated  generally  our  opinion 
that,  framed  as  the  human  mind  is,  it  cannot  refrain  from 
comparing  and  attempting  to  reconcile  different  systems  of 
truth.  The  inductions  of  mere  Physical  Science  are  rarely  so 
well  established  that  we  do  not  feel  pleasure  when  we  find 
them  sustained  by  ancient  traditionary  beliefs  or  authentic 
records.  In  Geology,  the  value  of  such  traditionary  and  his- 
torical evidence  has  recently  been  demonstrated  by  a  learned 
German,  Von  Hoff;*  and  Mr.  Lyell  also  deserves  praise  for 
the  sagacity  and  candor  with  which  he  has  applied  such  evi- 
dence to  several  difficult  questions.  But  if  ancient  records 
are  to  be  appealed  to  in  aid  of  Science,  the  records  indited  by 
Moses  are  older  than  the  oldest ;  and  if  uninspired  docu- 
ments may  have  great  value  in  this  respect,  the  fact  that  they 
are  believed  to  be  inspired  ought  not  to  impair  their  weight. 
And  if  we  may  appeal  to  Scripture  to  ascertain  the  value  in 
part  of  a  scientific  theory,  why  not  appeal,  on  the  other  hand, 
to  well-established  Science  to  ascertain  in  part  the  value  of  a 
Biblical  theory  to  test  the  correctness  of  particular  interpre- 
tations or  the  general  claims  of  the  whole  narrative  ? 

Our  confidence  in  certain  readings  or  interpretations  of  dis- 
puted texts  may  be  firm,  and  yet  we  are  gratified  when  some 
unexpected  fact,  brought  to  light  by  a  traveller,  historian,  or 
antiquarian,  shows  that  we  are  right;  that  witnesses  who 
cannot  be  impeached  thus  start  up  in  the  dim  past,  or  in  dis- 
tant lands,  to  corroborate  our  views.  So  our  faith  in  the 
Bible,  generally,  and  in  all  that  it  contains,  may  be  deep  and 
unshaken ;  and  yet  may  we  not  rejoice  when  we  find  that  on 
the  venerable  monuments  of  Egypt  and  the  hoary  cliffs  of 
Sinai  or  Horeb,  there  are  testimonials  that  have  come  down 


*  Wlaewell's  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences — Paiseontolgy. 


I/O 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


to  US  unharmed  througli  thousands  of  years  and  unnumbered 
human  vicissitudes, — testimonials  of  which  the  sacred  writers 
never  could  have  dreamed,  but  which  proclaim  in  clear  and 
impressiv^e  accents  that  their  record  is  true  ?  We  rejoice  not 
because  we  doubted  before, — not  even  because  we  believe 
more  cordially  now, — but  because  we  find  that  that  which  is 
irrefragable  truth  to  us  has  been  made  to  appear  like  truth  to 
others.  We  rejoice  that  such  an  opportunity  for  vindicating 
itself  has  been  afforded  to  the  Bible,  and  that  that  oppor- 
tunity has  been  signally  improved.  We  rejoice  that  verifica- 
tions, each  independent  of  the  rest,  are  thus  multiplied,  since 
each  will  address  itself  with  peculiar  force  to  a  certain  class  of 
minds.  We  rejoice  in  the  pledge  thus  given  that  Science  as 
it  advances  will  have  less  and  less  ground  of  cavil  against 
Revelation,  and  that  in  proportion  as  men  of  profound  knowl- 
edge and  sagacity  explore  the  relations  between  the  Word 
and  the  Works  of  God,  they  will  see  new  reason  to  acknowl- 
edge that  both  alike  are  bright  with  traces  of  a  wisdom  and 
a  power  above  this  world. 

That  such  will  indeed  be  the  case,  that  Christianity  has 
nothing  to  fear  but  much  to  hope  from  the  progress  of  Sci- 
ence, and  that  the  alliance  between  them  is  like  to  become 
closer  and  closer,  we  cannot  doubt.  That  philosophy  will 
sometimes  lose  itself  in  irreverent  conjectures,  and  sometimes 
become  too  highly  elated  with  the  consciousness  of  its  own 
independent  powers,  may  be  expected.  No  studies,  even  the 
most  sacred,  are  exempt  from  these  temporary  aberrations. 
But  that  the  Inductive  Sciences  generally,  or  those  which  re- 
late more  especially  to  Physics,  will  ultimately  prove  un- 
friendly to  the  Christian's  faith,  is  an  apprehension,  warranted, 
as  it  seems  to  us,  neither  by  the  nature  of  the  case  nor  by  the 
experience  of  the  past.  There  arc  those,  we  know,  who  look 
on  these  studies  as  tending  to  foster  a  sensual  tone  of  thought, 
as  unduly  exalting  the  material  element  of  our  existence  ;  as 
laying  the  foundation  of  coldness  and  distrust  in  regard  to  all 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


171 


that  is  spiritual,  and  especially  in  regard  to  all  that  is  super- 
natural. To  a  fault  of  this  kind,  which  may  be  charged  upon 
some  of  the  speculations  in  our  time,  I  have  already  had  oc- 
casion to  refer;  and  I  would  admit  here  distinctly  the  tendency 
of  exclusive  devotion  to  material  studies  in  a  narrow  spirit,  to 
engender  distaste  for  higher  contemplations.  But  this  is  the 
fault  of  the  individual  or  of  the  age  rather  than  of  Science, 
and  it  is  likely  to  be  amended  by  the  growth  of  true  knowl- 
edge and  of  a  wider  culture.  As  all  truth  is  from  God,  the 
proper  study  and  contemplation  of  it  must  be  calculated  to 
carry  the  mind  towards  God.  That  great  Being  is  best  known 
through  his  Word,  illustrated  and  enforced  by  his  works  and 
ways ;  and  those  works  are  best  understood  in  proportion 
as  we  apply  to  them  the  inductive  method  of  philoso- 
phizing. 

"  Though  I  am  willing  to  grant,"  says  Boyle,  "  that  some 
impressions  of  God's  wisdom  are  so  conspicuous  that  even  a 
superficial  philosopher  may  thence  infer  that  the  Author  of 
such  a  work  must  be  a  wise  agent ;  yet  how  wise  an  agent  He 
has  in  these  works  expressed  himself  to  be,  none  but  an  ex- 
perimental philosopher  can  well  discern.  And  'tis  not  by  a 
slight  survey,  but  by  a  diligent  and  skilful  scrutiny  of  the 
works  of  God,  that  a  man  must  be,  by  a  rational  and  effective 
conviction,  engaged  to  acknowledge  that  the  Author  of  nature 
is  wonderful  in  counsel  and  excellent  in  working."  The  fruit 
of  thousands  of  years  of  speculation  applied  to  these  subjects, 
before  the  time  of  Bacon,  would  seem  to  show  that  the 
methods  of  inquiry  then  prevailing  were  defective;  and  the 
results  which  have  followed  the  substitution  of  his  method 
seem  equally  conclusive  of  the  fact,  that  unless  knowledge  is 
a  bane  and  ignorance  the  mother  of  true  devotion.  Science 
must  have  enlarged  our  means  of  adoring  and  loving  God, 
because  it  has  enlarged  our  means  of  knowing  Him.  It  un- 
folds the  order  and  manifold  adaptations  to  man's  welfare  of 
the    material  world  with    such    impressive   clearness,  that  a 


172 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


mind  open  at  all  to  religious  sentiment  can  hardly  fail  to  be 
affected. 

If  in  all  ages  the  Heavens  have  declared  the  Glory  of  God, 
much  more  emphatically  is  this  the  case  now  that  modern 
astronomy  has  mapped  out  the  courses  of  the  stars,  has  un- 
folded the  beautiful  simplicity  which  pervades  all  their  move- 
ments, and  reduced  those  movements  to  one  law,  which  seems 
to  prevail  wherever  in  the  universe  there  is  matter.  So  strik- 
ing, indeed,  are  these  lessons,  that  not  even  those  least  dis- 
posed can  quite  withstand  their  influence.  When  La  Place 
describes  the  arrangements  by  which  the  stability  of  the  solar 
system  is  upheld,  he  cannot  help  (though  he  formally  repu- 
diates the  doctrine  of  final  causes)  yielding  to  that  notion  of 
an  end  or  purpose  which  they  seem  to  force  upon  the  mind. 
"  It  seems,"  says  he,  "  that  Nature  [suppose  the  word  God 
substituted  for  Nature]  has  ordered  everything  in  the  Heavens 
to  insure  the  duration  of  the  planetary  system  by  views  simi- 
lar to  those  which  she  (He)  appears  to  us  so  admirably  to  fol- 
low upon  the  earth,  for  the  preservation  of  animals  and  the 
perpetuity  of  the  species.  This  consideration  alone  would 
explain  the  disposition  of  the  system  if  it  were  not  the  busi- 
ness of  the  geometer  to  go  further."  In  like  manner  Cabanis, 
a  French  physiological  writer  of  eminence,  who  was  thor- 
oughly skeptical  in  respect  to  final  causes,  writes  in  this  wise 
when  he  speaks  of  the  laws  of  reproduction  of  the  human 
race :  "  I  regard,"  says  he,  "  with  the  great  Bacon,  the  phi- 
losophy of  final  causes  as  barren ;  but  I  have  elsewhere  ac- 
knowledged that  it  was  very  difficult  for  the  most  cautious 
man  not  to  have  recourse  to  them  in  his  explanations."  When 
the  truths  unfolded  by  science  wring  such  acknowledgments 
from  unbelief,  what  must  be  their  legitimate  influence  on  the 
unbiased  ? 

But  there  is  another  respect  in  which  these  studies  seem 
to  me  to  be  auspicious  to  the  Christian  faith.  They  are  favor- 
able to  self-control, — for  they  give  to  the  mind  the  power  of 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS.  1 73 

concentration,  while  they  save  it  from  that  vacuity  of  thought 
which  is  the  origin  of  many  of  the  vices  of  our  nature;  and 
they  do  more. 

To  borrow  the  language  of  one  of  the  first  philosophers* 
of  Europe  and  of  our  time,  "  The  study  of  the  higher  Sciences 
is  well  suited  to  keep  down  a  spirit  of  arrogance  and  intel- 
lectual pride;  for,  in  disentangling  the  phenomena  of  the  ma- 
terial world,  we  encounter  things  which  hourly  tell  us  of  the 
feebleness  of  our  powers,  and  material  combinations  so  in- 
finitely beyond  the  reach  of  any  intellectual  analysis  as  to 
convince  us  at  once  of  the  narrow  limitation  of  our  faculties. 
To  an  Almighty  Being,  with  the  attribute  of  ubiquity,  in 
whose  mind  all  things  past  and  to  come  coexist  in  eternal 
presence,  to  Him  all  truth  is  by  intuition ;  by  us  truth  is  only 
apprehended  through  the  slow  and  toilsome  process  of  com- 
parison. So  that  the  powers  and  capacities  forming  the  very 
implements  of  our  strength  are  also  the  indications  of  our 
weakness. 

"Simplicity  of  character,  humility  and  love  of  truth  ought 
therefore  to  be  (and  I  believe  generally  have  been)  among 
the  attributes  of  minds  well  trained  in  philosophy.  After  all 
that  has  been  done  since  the  thoughts  of  man  were  first 
turned  to  the  phenomena  of  the  material  world,  after  all  the 
boasted  discoveries  of  Science,  from  the  first  records  of  civili- 
zation down  to  our  own  days,  those  glorious  passages  of  the 
Old  Testament,  contrasting  the  power  and  wisdom  of  God  in 
the  wonders  of  his  creation  with  man's  impotence  and  igno- 
rance, have  still,  and  ever  will  continue  to  have,  not  merely 
a  figurative  or  poetical  but  a  literal  application.  '  Gird  up 
now  thy  loins  like  a  man ;  for  I  will  demand  of  thee,  and 
answer  thou  me.  Where  wast  thou  when  I  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  the  Earth  ?  Declare,  if  thou  hast  understanding. 
Whereupon   are  the  foundations   thereof  fastened?    or  who 

*  Prof.  Sedgwick's  Discourse  on  Studies  of  the  University  of  Cambridge. 


174  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

laid  the  corner-stone  thereof,  when  the  mornings  stars  sang 
together  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy?  or  who 
shut  up  the  sea  with  doors,  when  it  brake  forth  as  if  it  had 
issued  out  of  a  womb  ?  When  I  made  the  cloud  the  garment 
thereof,  and  thick  darkness  a  swaddling-band  for  it,  and  said, 
Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  but  no  further:  and  here  shall 
thy  proud  waves  be  stayed?  Where  is  the  way  where  light 
dwelleth?  and  as  for  darkness,  where  is  the  place  thereof? 
Knowest  thou  it,  because  thou  wast  then  born  ?  or  because 
the  number  of  thy  days  is  great?' 

"Before  such  an  interrogation  we  can  only  bow  in  humble 
admiration.  The  study  of  the  laws  of  nature  may  strengthen 
and  exalt  the  intellectual  powers  ;  but  strange  must  be  our 
condition  of  self-government,  and  tortuous  our  habits  of 
thought,  if  such  studies  be  allowed  to  coexist  with  self-love 
and  arrogance  and  intellectual  pride." 

Is  it  said  that  if  these  are  the  appropriate  results  of  scientific 
studies,  they  are  results  not  usually  attained ;  that  arrogance, 
uncharitableness,  and  contempt  of  things  sacred  have  often 
characterized  the  votaries  of  these  sciences?  I  answer  that 
these  vices  are  not  peculiar  to  minds  addicted  to  the  physical 
sciences.  Neither  metaphysicians  nor  moral  philosophers  nor 
historians  nor  even  theologians  are  always  meek,  charitable, 
or  reverent.  The  temper  with  which  a  man  applies  himself 
to  a  study  will  depend  more  on  the  prevailing  habits  of  his 
mind  than  on  the  study  itself.  If  he  carry  to  it  a  proud,  un- 
hallowed, or  licentious  spirit,  proud,  unhallowed,  or  licentious 
will  be  the  tone  in  which  he  will  discuss  problems  and  an- 
nounce results. 

The  true  question  before  us  respects  the  influence  which  the 
physical  sciences  are  calculated  to  exercise  upon  an  incor- 
rupted  mind,—  on  one  not  bent  on  evil  and  willing  to  be  made 
truly  wise  and  good  ;  and  on  this  point  let  all  history  answer. 
For  every  Natural  philosopher  eminent  as  a  skeptic,  not  less 
than  five,  I  think,  might  be  produced  equally  eminent  in  that 


CRITICAL   DISCUSSIONS. 


175 


capacity  who  were  not  Natural  philosophers,  but  metaphy- 
sicians, poets,  scholars,  or  men  of  the  world.  France  is  often 
appealed  to  as  illustrating  the  baneful  effects  of  a  too  earnest 
application  to  physical  studies  ;  but  whence  came  the  Infidelity 
of  France  ?  Was  it  from  the  labors  of  Descartes  or  Pascal, — 
almost  the  only  eminent  natural  philosophers  she  had  before 
the  time  of  the  Regency, — men  who  were  as  eminent  for  their 
piety  as  their  science  ?  Her  deep  moral  degeneracy,  induced 
chiefly  by  social  and  political  causes,  and  by  a  false  system  of 
metaphysical  philosophy,  was  the  true  parent  of  her  irreligion 
and  unbelief  Bayle,  Condillac,  Diderot,  Voltaire,  Rousseau 
were  not  trained  in  the  severe  school  of  physical  science  more 
than  Hume,  or  Bolingbroke,  or  Shaftesbury,  or  Lord  Herbert. 
When  infidelity  was  once  established  and  had  become  well- 
nigh  universal,  it  is  not  strange  that  her  great  mathematicians 
and  mechanical  philosophers*  should  have  shared  in  the  pre- 
vailing infection.  They  did  not  imbibe  the  poison  from  their 
studies  more  than  the  sick  man  owes  his  disease  to  the  food 
he  takes ;  but  that  disease  had  power  to  transform  even 
healthy  aliment  into  an  aggravation  of  its  own  virulence. 

Against  the  brief  list  of  naturalists  and  mechanical  philoso- 
phers who  have  adopted  a  cheerless  unbelief,  it  would  be  in- 
structive to  draw  out,  if  we  had  time,  the  long  list  of  those 
who  have  coupled  devotion  to  science  with  an  humble  and 
earnest  faith  in  religion.  It  would  be  found,  as  Boyle  says, 
"  in  almost  all  ages  and  countries  the  generality  of  philoso- 
phers and  contemplative  men  were  persuaded  of  the  existence 
of  a  Deity  from  the  consideration  of  the  phenomena  of  the 
universe,  whose  fabric  and  conduct  they  rationally  concluded 
could  not  justly  be  ascribed  either  to  chance  or  to  any  other 

*  It  ought  to  be  considered,  too,  that  D'Alembert,  La  Place,  La  Grange,  etc. 
were  employed  not  in  the  inductive  work  of  discovery,  but  in  simply  deducing 
from  the  Law  of  Gravitation  some  of  its  results.  Mr.  Whewell  has  shown  in 
his  Bridgewater  Treatise  (Book  iii.  chap.  5,  6)  how  much  less  favorable  this  lat- 
ter process  is  to  high  moral  and  religious  contemplations. 


1/6 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


cause  than  a  Divine  Being."  We  should  see  reason  to  con- 
clude that  the  judgment  recorded  by  Newton  in  regard  to  the 
legitimate  tendency  of  all  Inductive  Physical  Science,  is  the 
judgment  of  truth  and  soberness.  "  The  business  of  Natural 
Philosophy,"  he  says,  in  one  of  the  Queries  attached  to  his 
Optics,  "is  to  argue  from  phenomena,  without  feigning  hy- 
potheses, and  to  deduce  causes  from  effects  till  we  come  to 
the  very  First  Cause,  which  is  certainly  not  mechanical." 
"  Though  every  true  step  made  in  this  philosophy  bring  us 
not  immediately  to  the  knowledge  of  the  First  Cause,  yet  it 
brings  us  nearer  to  it,  and  is  on  that  account  to  be  highly 
valued."  And  in  the  Note  or  Scholium,  with  which  he  con- 
cludes his  great  work,  the  "  Principia,"  is  this  impressive  tes- 
timony :  "  This  beautiful  system  of  Sun,  Planets,  and  Comets 
could  have  its  origin  in  no  other  way  than  by  the  purpose  and 
command  of  an  intelligent  and  powerful  Being.  He  governs 
all  things  not  as  the  soul  of  the  world,  but  as  the  Lord  of  the 
Universe.  He  is  not  only  God,  but  Lord  or  Governor.  We 
know  Him  only  by  his  properties  and  attributes, — by  the  wise 
and  admirable  structure  of  things  around  us,  and  by  their 
final  cause.  We  admire  Him  on  account  of  his  perfections. 
We  venerate  and  worship  Him  on  account  of  his  Govern- 
ment." 


PART  II. 

Nature  a  Witness. 


I.  INORGANIC  NATURE.  II.  ORGANIC  NATURE. 


BOOK  I. 

INORGANIC    NATURE. 

PHYSICS    AND    CHEMISTRY. 


CHAPTER    I. 

MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER. 

OUR  object  in  this  chapter  is  to  point  out  how  Mechanical 
Philosophy  may  be  made  subservient  to  ReHgious  in- 
struction and  improvement ;  and  we  shall  endeavor  to  do  it 
by  showing  that  the  mechanical  constitution  of  Nature  is 
everywhere  crowded  with  marks  of  creative  foresight,  and 
with  contrivances  calculated  to  promote  man's  highest  welfare, 
not  only  as  a  physical  but  also  as  an  intellectual  and  moral 
being. 

When  surveyed  through  the  medium  of  this  Science,  which 
may  be  considered  as  one  of  the  great  optic  tubes,  by  the  help 
of  which  we  inspect  the  operations  of  Nature,  the  world  pre- 
sents to  an  observer  two  leading  facts, — Motion  and  Rest. 
Both  are  needed,  in  order  to  the  well-being  of  man  and  other 
terrestrial  inhabitants,  and  it  is  most  interesting  to  remark,  that 
where  each  is  needed  each  seems  to  have  been  provided  for.  Of 
objects  on  the  earth's  surface,  some  —  like  plants,  edifices, 
rocks — need  to  be  stationary.  Others,  like  the  materials  on 
which  we  operate  in  the  useful  and  liberal  arts,  need  to  be 
movable ;  but  with  a  balance  of  inclination  towards  rest. 
Others  again,  such  as  clouds,  air,  the  water  of  streams  and 
rivers,  and  of  the  ocean,  contribute  most  to  the  welfare  of 
living   creatures  when   in   motion,  and,  accordingly,  motion, 

(179) 


i8o 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


restless  and  unceasing,  is  one  of  their  striking  characteristics. 
This  general  correspondence  between  the  mechanical  state  of 
bodies  and  the  innumerably  various  ends  which  they  subserve, 
can  hardly  fail  to  impress  with  admiration  the  most  casual 

observer. 

This  admiration,  however,  will  be  heightened  when  we  con- 
sider the  means  by  which  a  result  so  wonderful  has  been  at- 
tained.    Whatever  the  state  of  bodies,  whether  it  be  rest  or 
motion,  that  state  is  always  the  effect  oi  forces  which  act  upon 
those  bodies.     No  body  exists  in  nature  which  is  not  urged 
by  one  or  more  of  these  forces.     For  example  :  gravitation  is 
a  force  which  presses  upon  every  mass  and  every  particle  of 
matter,  whether  that  matter  be  at  rest  or  in  motion  ;  whether 
it  lie  within  the  earth's  sphere  of  attraction  or  at  an  immeas- 
urable distance  beyond  it.     But,  if  pressed  upon  by  one  force, 
a  body  can  remain  at  rest  only  when  the  action  of  that  force 
is  neutralized  or  counteracted  by  one  or  more  opposing  forces. 
Thus,  the  weight  or  force  of  gravitation  in  our  own  body 
would  carry  it  rapidly  towards  the  centre  of  the  earth  were  it 
not  for  the  floor  beneath  us,  which  presents  a  countervailing 
force  or  resistance  more  than  equal  to  the  former.    So  a  cloud, 
which  hangs  poised  and  motionless  above  us,  is  in  equilibrio, — 
between  the  force  of  gravity  in  the  cloud  and  superincumbent 
air  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  elastic  force  of  the  air  beneath  it 
on  the  other.     In  like  manner,  a  boy's  kite  is  at  rest  in  the 
air  when  the  force  of  traction,  exerted  by  him  through  the 
string,  is  equivalent  to  the  other  two  forces  which  act  upon 
it,  viz.,  the  force  of  the  wind,  urging  it  forward  and  upward, 
and  the  force  of  gravitation,  which  would  bring  it  downward. 
Here,  then,  we  have,  in  one  case,  three  forces ;  in  the  other, 
two,  acting  simultaneously  upon  the  same  mass  of  matter  and 
destroying  all  motion;  or,  in  other  words,  we  have  these  forces 
neutralizing  each  other,  so  that  it   is  usual  to  consider  Me- 
chanics, or  the  Science  of  Forces,  under  two  heads:— ist. 
Statics,  i.e.  the  Science  of  Forces  destroying  motion.     2d.  Dy- 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS   TEACHER,     igl 

namics,  i.e.  the  Science  of  Forces  producing  motion.  It  ought 
to  be  ob.served  here,  that  when  we  speak  of  bodies  as  being 
in  a  state  of  rest,  we  mean  not  absolute,  but  merely  relative, 
rest.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
absolute  rest  in  the  universe.  The  Sun,  round  which  all  the 
planets  and  comets  of  our  system  are  making  their  constant 
circuit,  is  supposed,  and  not  without  good  reason,  to  be  itself 
advancing  about  some  far-distant  centre  ;  and  everything  leads 
to  the  conclusion  that  what  are  called  fixed  stars  are,  in  like 
manner,  restless  voyagers  on  the  great  ocean  of  space.  We 
usually  consider  terrestrial  bodies  as  at  rest,  however,  when 
they  continue  in  the  same  position  zvith  respect  to  fixed  lines  on 
the  earth's  surface ;  and  it  is  in  this  sense  that  we  invariably 
employ  the  term  in  this  chapter. 

We  need  hardly  add,  that  most  objects  on  or  near  the  sur- 
face of  our  planet,  are  neither  permanently  at  rest  nor  perma- 
nently in  motion.  A  boy's  sport  would  soon  end  if  that  exact 
equilibrium  between  the  three  forces  that  act  upon  his  kite, 
which  we  have  noticed,  were  always  maintained  so  soon  as 
that  kite  reaches  a  certain  elevation.  Clouds  are  a  pleasant 
object  of  contemplation  when  they  hang  motionless  on  the 
mountain  or  green  hillside  ;  but  they  best  perform  their  offices 
when  they  are  floating  to  and  fro  ;  and  in  their  case,  as  in  that 
of  the  kite,  but  a  slight  addition  to  one  of  the  forces  is  needed 
in  order  to  disturb  the  temporary  and  unstable  equilibrium, 
and  substitute  motion  more  or  less  violent  for  rest.  It  is  thus 
throughout  nature.  The  very  same  powers  which  at  one 
time  anchor  a  body,  as  if  in  immovable  repose,  at  another 
impel  it  forward.  And  even  if  we  take  bodies  which  never 
move,  or  those  which  never  rest,  we  shall  find  that  both  are 
under  the  dominion  of  the  same  forces,  and  that  it  is  through 
the  adjustment,  as  to  intensity  and  direction,  of  a  few  simple 
ones  that  the  mechanical  state  of  all  masses  of  matter  is  regu- 
lated by  the  Creator,  whether  it  be  one  of  permanent  rest,  per- 
manent motion,  or  frequent  interchange  and  alteration. 


l82  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Which,  then,  are  these  forces  ?  and  in  what  way  does  each 
contribute,  both  separately  and  in  conjunction  with  others,  to 
set  forth  the  Divine  wisdom  and  goodness  by  contributing  to 
the  welfare  of  his  sensitive  creatures?  We  shall  notice: — I. 
Inertia.    2.  Friction.     -^.Gravity.     4.  Heat.     ^.  Animal  Pozvcr. 

I.  Inertia. — This  is  a  principle  or  property  of  matter  which 
never  directly  originates  motion,  but  which  still  exerts  so  much 
influence — at  one  time  in  preventing,  at  another  in  maintaining 
and  modifying  it — that  it  may  well  be  considered  as  a  force.  Its 
name  indicates  its  character  but  in  part.  It  is  the  conservative 
principle  in  the  material  zvoiid.  It  always  contends  for  the  status 
in  quo,  whether  that  state  be  one  of  rest  or  of  motion.  If  a 
mass  be  at  rest,  it  withstands  all  efforts  to  move  it, — not  more 
decidedly,  however,  than  it  would  withstand,  if  the  same  body 
were  in  motion,  any  effort  to  stop  it.  ,It  is  strictly  conserva- 
tive, its  opposition  being  simply  to  change  of  any  kind, — not 
to  progress,  if  progress  be  the  pre-established  order  of  things. 
If  a  body  be  in  motion,  it  always  tends,  in  virtue  of  inertia,  to 
continue  in  that  state;  and  just  in  proportion  as  obstacles — 
i.e.  retarding  forces — are  withdrawn,  the  motion  is  prolonged, 
as  we  can  all  see  in  the  case  of  balls  rolling  over  smooth  sur- 
faces, or  of  tops  spinning  on  hard  and  polished  floors.  Hence, 
if  rt// external  resistance  were  withdrawn,  moving  bodies  would 
continue  in  motion  forever,  as  at  first  view  seems  to  be  the 
actual  condition  of  the  planets  in  their  revolutions  round  the 
Sun.  It  is  not,  however,  absolutely  certain  that  the  planetary 
spaces  are  free  from  all  resistance  to  bodies  passing  through 
them.  Observations  on  Encke's  comet  have  indicated  a  very 
slight  retardation  in  its  motion,  such  as  would  ensue  on  the 
passage  of  a  light  body  like  that  comet  through  an  exceed- 
ingly thin  resisting  medium.  If  such  a  medium  does  exist,  it 
must  occasion,  unless  fresh  projectile  impulses  be  given  to 
them,  a  corresponding  retardation  in  the  annual  motions  of 
the  planets ;  and  thus  this  recently-discovered  fact  points  us 
forward  to  a  day  when  each  of  these  planets,  their  orbits  being 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER. 


183 


gradually  contracted,  may,  in  its  turn,  by  the  action  of  natural 
forces,  be  precipitated  into  the  Sun,  and  end  its  circuit  in  one 
final  conflagration.  This  medium  may  serve,  at  the  same  time, 
to  lead  our  minds  back  to  a  great  fact  in  the  physical  history 
of  the  past.  It  would  show  that  these  planets  cannot  have 
been  moving  through  their  orbits,  as  some  contend,  through 
all  a  past  eternity  ;  for  on  that  supposition  this  resistance 
would  have  arrested  their  course  ages  on  ages  before  the 
present  time.  In  this  way  Mechanical  Philosophy  may  sup- 
ply evidence  additional  to  that  supplied  by  Geology  in  con- 
firmation of  the  fact  that  the  duration  of  the  present  system 
of  the  universe  is  limited,  while  it  corroborates  those  passages 
in  Revelation  which  refer  us  to  periods  in  the  distant  past 
"  before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  the  earth 
and  the  world  was  formed,"  as  well  as  those  which  foreshadow 
a  great  catastrophe,  in  which  "  the  elements  shall  melt  with 
fervent  heat,  and  the  earth  and  all  that  is  therein  shall  be 
burnt  up." 

What  are  the  uses  of  this  great  conservative  power  in 
nature  called  Inertia  ?  or,  in  other  words,  how  does  it  serve 
to  set  forth  the  natural  and  moral  perfections  of  the  great 
Lawgiver  by  whom  it  was  first  established  and  is  still  main- 
tained? Some  of  these  uses  are  alike  obvious  and  important. 
Inertia  renders  matter  passive  in  all  its  states,  and  thereby 
enables  us,  when  we  know  the  forces  that  act  upon  it,  to  cal- 
culate beforehand  its  position  or  motions,  and  to  represent 
with  mathematical  accuracy  the  effect  of  any  change  in  those 
forces.  It  thus  subjects  matter,  in  many  respects,  to  man's 
control,  and  presents  a  constant  challenge  both  to  study  and 
to  action.  It  enables  us  also  to  anticipate  and  accommodate 
ourselves  to  changes  which  may  be  occasioned  by  natural 
causes  beyond  our  control.  And  it  also  provides  that  great 
changes,  whether  from  rest  to  motion,  from  motion  to  rest, 
or  from  one  rate  of  motion  to  another,  shall  not  take  place 
instantaneously,  but  shall  be  effected   more   gradually,  and 


1 84 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


therefore  more  safely  and  conveniently.  It  also  exhibits  to 
us,  by  means  of  contrast,  the  peculiar  activity  of  our  own 
spiritual  natures,  which,  unlike  matter,  are  capable  of  origi- 
nating motion  and  other  changes,  and  also  of  resisting  out- 
ward influences.  So  dumb  nature  is  by  means  of  this  Law 
made  to  warn  us  against  a  mere  vassalage  to  influences  from 
w^ithout,  and  to  animate  us  to  a  worthy  exercise  of  all  our 
faculties. 

Another  result  of  this  law  deserves  remark  as  indicative  of 
creative  and  benevolent  foresight.  It  is  to  be  observed  in  the 
opposite  effects  of  this  same  inertia  as  it  operates  on  the  earth 
and  in  the  heavens.  In  the  heavens  it  secures  what  for  all 
practical  purposes  may  be  styled  perpetual  motion.  On  the 
earth  it  produces  in  most  bodies  a  tendency  to  perpetual  rest. 
Solid  bodies  moving  through  the  air  experience  constant 
resistance  from  its  inertia,  and  where  no  new  impulse  is  given 
they  soon  come  to  rest.  Owing  to  this  resistance,  and  to 
another  cause  which  we  shall  notice  presently,  perpetual  mo- 
tion, self-maintained,  is  not  possible  on  the  surface  of  our 
globe.  Man  is  thus  called  upon  to  interpose,  from  time  to 
time,  to  recruit  the  wasting  energies  of  any  force  he  may  em- 
ploy, and  to  maintain  constant  vigilance  over  his  own  works 
and  also  over  those  of  nature.  Both  furnish  occasion  for 
exercising  his  industry,  foresight,  and  self-control, — qualities 
which  if  not  positively  moral  are  yet  indispensable  in  order 
to  all  moral  culture  and  all  high  spiritual  excellence.  He  at 
the  same  time  secures  through  inertia  the  advantage  of 
having  the  various  movable  objects  which  he  uses  (such  as 
tools  and  materials)  stationary, — where  he  leaves  them  he 
finds  them.  The  slight  impulses  which  they  receive  from 
him,  or  from  other  sources,  soon  spend  themselves,  and  they 
are  at  rest.  Otherwise  a  touch  given  accidentally  might  im- 
part perpetual  motion  to  objects  which  we  want  always  near 
us,  but  which  we  cannot  always  be  thinking  of. 

With  a  glance  at  one  other  result  of  this  law  of  inertia  we 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS   TEACHER.     i3^ 

leave  it.  Bodies  in  motion  always  tend,  in  virtue  of  this  law, 
to  maintain  their  courses  in  right  lines.  If  they  follow  any 
other  line,  it  must  be  in  consequence  of  some  constant  force 
or  pressure  which,  at  every  instant,  deflects  them  more  or 
less  from  a  rectilinear  course,  causing  them  to  describe  a  cur- 
vilinear path.  If  this  deflecting  force  acted  alone,  it  would 
draw  the  body  towards  the  point  or  centre  at  which  that  force 
acts.  We  see,  then,  how  a  single  impulse  from  a  projectile 
force,  acting  in  conjunction  with  a  constant  attraction  towards 
any  centre  of  motion,  will  cause  the  moving  body  to  revolve 
in  an  orbit  about  that  centre,  and  also  how,  if  there  be  no  re- 
sistance, such  revolution  would  maintain  itself  forever.  The 
resistance  presented  to  the  motion  of  the  planets  is  so  slight 
that  it  has  made  as  yet  no  perceptible  alteration  in  the  length 
of  our  years,  and  in  practice  as  well  as  in  ordinary  reasoning 
may  be  overlooked.  We  see,  then,  how  the  globe  that  we 
inhabit,  and  all  the  other  primaries  of  the  solar  system,  need 
to  have  been  merely  projected  into  space,  with  a  certain  force 
passing  through  any  point  within  their  surface,  save  the  centre, 
and  the  result  of  this  projection,  combined  with  the  attractive 
force  of  the  Sun,  would  be  a  twofold  motion, — one  of  rotation 
on  its  own  axis,  another  of  revolution  round  the  Sun, — neither 
of  which  would  ever  terminate  of  itself,  so  that  the  system 
would  carry  within  it,  subject  to  certain  conditions,  an  essential 
principle  of  stability, — a  guarantee  for  the  permanence  and 
regularity  of  its  motions, 

2.  Friction. — We  have  thus  far  spoken  of  a  force  which 
tends  to  maintain  stability,  to  uphold  the  existing  order  of 
things  everywhere  in  nature,  but  which  near  the  earth,  i.e.  within 
the  limits  of  its  atmosphere,  favors  rest  rather  than  motion. 
There  is  another  force,  still  more  useful  in  this  latter  respect, 
and  that  is  friction,  or  the  resistance  which  two  surfaces  in 
contact  always  present  to  any  motion  of  one  of  these  surfaces 
over  or  against  the  other.  This  resistance  increases  in  the 
precise  ratio  of  the  pressure  with  which  they  act  upon  each 


I-gg  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Other.  Suppose  a  man  standing  on  the  smoothest  ice,  the 
soles  of  his  boots  or  shoes  being  equally  smooth,  we  know 
with  what  difficulty  he  maintains  his  position.  The  slightest 
wind  would  cause  him  to  slide,  the  slightest  inclination  of  his 
body,  from  one  side  to  the  other,  would  be  followed  by  a  fall. 
Yet  in  this  case  there  is  still  some  friction  between  the  two 
surfaces.  Were  it  absolutely  destroyed,  there  is  no  reason 
to  believe  that,  even  with  the  utmost  strength  and  address,  he 
could  hold  his  place  for  an  instant.  Suppose,  then,  the  same 
entire  absence  of  friction  in  the  case  of  the  blocks  of  stone  or 
bricks  which  compose  the  masonry  of  a  building.  Suppose 
there  were  no  friction  between  the  superstructure  of  a  build- 
ing and  the  foundation  on  which  it  rests, — between  bolts, 
spikes,  pins,  and  nails,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  parts  which 
they  are  intended  to  bind  together, — between  the  articles  of 
furniture  in  a  room  and  the  floor  on  which  they  stand, — be- 
tween the  pen  we  hold  in  our  hand  and  the  hand  itself, — 
between  the  masses  of  earth  on  a  hill  or  mountain-side  and 
the  inclined  surface  on  which  they  rest, — between  our  feet 
and  any  floor  or  street,  not  perfectly  horizontal,  on  which  we 
happen  to  walk  or  stand.  The  results  which  must  ensue  are 
evident.  The  soil  on  every  hillside  would  rush  to  the  valley 
below.  Our  pens,  in  spite  of  the  closest  grasp,  would  turn 
continually  in  our  hands,  the  parts  of  a  building  or  of  furni- 
ture could  not  be  held  together,  utensils  and  tools  would 
maintain  an  almost  incessant  dance,  and  our  position,  when  on 
chairs  or  in  bed,  would  be  like  that  of  a  suspended  kite  or 
cloud.  A  current  of  air,  created  by  the  opening  and  shutting 
of  doors,  would  be  sufficient  to  send  us  whirling  across  the 
floor. 

3.  Gravity. — Yet  another  force  is  necessary,  however,  in 
order  to  secure  enough  of  rest  and  stability  to  objects  on  the 
earth's  surface.  The  earth  revolves  on  its  axis,  as  we  all 
know,  and  its  velocity  is  such  that  the  building  in  which  we 
write  passes  through  more  than  seven  hundred  miles  in  an 


MECHANICAL   PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS    TEACHER. 


187 


hour,  or  a  little  over  thirteen  miles  in  each  successive  minute. 
The  line  described  by  every  object  is  the  arc  of  a  circle,  and 
from  this  arc  the  body  is  constantly  endeavoring  to  recede  in 
virtue  of  what  is   called  tJie  centrifugal  force,  which   is   only 
another  name  for  the  inertia  which  would  always  carry  bodies 
when  in  motion  in  right  lines.     The  effect  of  this  inertia,  or 
centrifugal  tendency,  if  not  counteracted,  would  be  that  all 
movable   bodies   on   the  globe,  such  as   air,  water,  animals, 
men,   edifices,   everything,   in    short,   not  held  to   it  by  the 
strongest  attachments,  would  be  hurled  off  into  the  surround- 
ing space,  just  as  we  see  the  water  and  mud  fly  from   the 
wheels  of  a  carriage  in  rapid  motion.     What  is  the  power, 
which  the  All-wise  and  Benignant  Author  of  the  Universe 
has  provided,  to  countervail  this  dangerous  tendency?    What 
is  the  attractive  force  which  tends  to  attach  each  object  on 
the  earth's  surface  to  its  assigned  place,  and  to  resist  all  the 
forces  that  would  drive  it  away  ?     We  need  hardly  say  that 
gravitation   is  that  power.     In  conjunction  with   friction,   it 
anchors  edifices  to  their  foundation  in  the  earth,  it  confines 
the  ocean  to  its  bed,  rivers  to  their  channels,  animals  to  their 
places  of  rest  when  asleep.     It  prevents  the  air  from  being 
dissipated,  and  thus  keeps  the  earth  enveloped  in  that  trans- 
parent robe  of  atmosphere  and  vapor  which  is  one  of  the  great 
means  of  maintaining  life  and  promoting  the  growth  and  en- 
joyment of  all  animated  nature.     It  counteracts  the  effect  of 
impulses  which  would  otherwise  carry  bodies  away  to  an  in- 
definite   distance    from    the    earth,  and  causes  these  bodies, 
whatever  the   force  by  which   they   are  projected,  to  return 
speedily  to  its  surface.     It  seems  to  watch,  as  if  with  sleepless 
vigilance,  over  all  terrestrial  objects,  keeps  them  in  subjection 
to  the  parent  earth,  and  thus  provides  that  the  mass  of  matter 
in  this,  as  in  every  other  planet,  shall  be  a  constant  quantity, 
thereby  maintaining  unchanged  the  relations  between  those 
planets  and  between  the  several  parts  in  each. 

But  gravity  causes   motion    as  well   as   rest.     All    matter 


1 88  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

gravitates  towards  all  other  matter.  Hence,  though  the  earth 
confines  all  terrestrial  objects  near  to  its  own  surface,  be- 
cause, being  the  nearest  great  mass  of  matter,  its  attractive 
power  transcends  that  of  all  other  bodies  in  the  solar  system, 
still,  it  is  true  that  each  particle  of  matter  on  our  globe  really 
gravitates  towards,  or  is  attracted  by,  each  one  of  those  dis- 
tant bodies.  A  visible  effect  of  this  attraction  may  be  wit- 
nessed daily  in  the  rising  of  the  tide.  In  this  case  we  see 
water  gravitating  azvay  from  the  earth,  while,  on  the  other 
hand, — in  rain  falling  to  the  ground,  in  streams  making  their 
way  from  higher  to  lower  levels,  and  serving,  as  they  fall  over 
precipices,  to  move  machinery, — we  see  water  gravitating  to- 
wards the  earth.  If  we  would  appreciate  the  innumerable 
benefits  thus  bestowed  on  man  by  gravity  as  a  moving  agent, 
consider  the  mechanical  power  that  is  furnished  ready  to  our 
hands  by  the  numberless  streams  that  flow  towards  the  ocean 
from  both  sides  of  the  mountain  chains  which  stretch  from 
one  extremity  of  a  continent  to  another, — a  power  sufficient 
to  manufacture  all  the  raw  productions  of  our  fields  and  mines, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  transport  them  to  tidewater.  How 
considerate  the  Wisdom  and  Kindness  which  have  thus  pro- 
vided forces  where  they  are  most  needed  for  the  service  of 
man,  and  how  impressive  the  great  law  which  has  ordained 
that  we  shall  enjoy  their  aid  only  when  we  exercise  intelli- 
gence, self-denial,  and  a  provident  industry ! 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  also,  that  the  motions  resulting  from 
gravity  will  be  essentially  varied  by  the  natures  of  the  bodies 
through  which  it  acts,  according  as  their  constituent  particles 
are  held  together  by  cohesion,  as  in  solids,  or  are  disconnected 
though  in  contact,  as  in  liquids,  or  are  mutually  repellant  of 
each  other,  as  in  the  atmosphere  and  other  aeriform  bodies. 
The  result  of  this  difference,  in  the  constitution  of  gravitating 
bodies,  is  that  the  same  body  will  ascend  in  water,  which 
would  have  descended  in  a  vacuum,  and  remained  .stationary, 
perhaps,  in  the  air.     Water  itself,  which  can  only  run  down 


MECHANICAL   PHILOSOPHY  A   RELIGIOUS   TEACHER. 


189 


an  open  channel  by  the  action  of  gravity,  is  made  to  rise  by 
means  of  the  very  same  force  in  the  barrel  of  a  pump  or  in 
the  arm  of  a  bent  tube.  Gravity  will,  also,  enable  any  quan- 
tity of  water,  however  small,  if  properly  disposed,  to  raise  any 
weight,  however  great,  as  is  seen  in  the  Hydrostatic  press  or 
bellows.  In  like  manner,  gravity  will  impart  to  a  few  gallons 
of  water  confined  in  the  crevice  of  a  canal-bank  or  the  fissure 
of  a  rock  an  explosive  power,  like  that  of  gunpowder,  and 
will  occasion,  in  some  cases,  disruptions  and  mountain-slides, 
which  are  so  frequently  observed  and  so  imperfectly  accounted 
for.  Could  it  have  been  less  than  Infinite  Wisdom  which  thus 
multiplied  and  varied  the  operations  of  the  same  agent,  and 
adapted  them  to  the  production  of  such  multifarious  effects  ? 

4.  Heat. — We  have  now  seen  some  of  the  useful  results  of 
Gravity,  Friction,  and  Inertia.  Their  combined  action  would, 
in  time,  bring  all  inanimate  bodies  on  the  earth's  surface  to  a 
state  of  rest ;  and,  were  it  not  for  the  influence  of  a  counter- 
acting principle,  they  would  induce  universal  stagnation  and 
sterility.  Water,  on  the  summits  of  mountains,  would  soon 
discharge  itself,  by  the  action  of  gravity,  into  the  lakes  and 
streams  below,  and  these  again  would  flow  into  the  ocean. 
Thus  all  means  of  irrigating  the  soil  would  be  withdrawn,  and 
vegetation  of  every  kind  would  languish  and  die.  We  need, 
then,  a  vivifying  power  which  will  break  up  this  deep  stagna- 
tion, which,  in  the  spirit  of  a  Reformer,  will  withstand  the 
excessive  conservatism  of  the  principles  we  have  already  no- 
ticed, and  maintain  a  healthy  system  of  vicissitude  and  com- 
pensation. Such  a  power  we  have.  It  is  Jieat, — tlie  great 
agitator, — the  all-powerful  regenerator  in  natnre.  Let  us  see 
how  it  operates,  more  especially  as  a  mechanical  agent ;  or, 
in  other  words,  how  it  manifests  the  foresight  of  the  Creator 
in  regard  to  the  welfare  and  enjoyment  of  living  beings. 

And  1st.  Heat  expands  water,  and  hence  tlie  tvarin  currents 
which  are  created  by  the  excessive  heat  of  the  tropics  acting 
upon  the  water  beneath.     The  Gulf  Stream,  which  issues  out 


I  no  ^-^-^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and  runs  northeasterly  along  the  coast 
of  America,  may  be  an  example.  It  carries  with  it  the  heat 
of  its  native  latitude,  and  thus  serves  to  mitigate  the  severity 
of  a  northern  winter,  while  a  corresponding  current  on  the 
coast  of  Africa,  bearing  south,  brings  down  the  cold  of  anorthern 
region,  and  in  this  way  allays  the  intensity  of  equatorial  heat. 
A  like  advantage  is  attained  through  the  same  law  in  another 
way.  As  water  becomes  cooled  on  its  surface  at  night  or  in 
winter,  such  superficial  portion  contracts,  becomes  heavier,  and 
sinks  towards  the  bottom,  while  warmer  portions  rise  to  the 
surface,  diffusing  around  their  milder  influence.  On  the  other 
hand,  in  the  daytime  and  in  summer,  the  heat  which  falls  upon 
the  transparent  water  of  the  ocean  being  imbibed  much  more 
slowly  than  that  which  falls  on  land,  the  land  becomes  warmer 
than  the  sea, — whence  those  grateful  breezes  which  blow  at 
such  times  from  the  sea  to  temper  the  fervid  heat  of  the  ad- 
jacent shores.  In  this  way  the  alternations  of  heat  and  cold 
in  every  locality  become  much  less  violent  than  they  would 
be  otherwise,  and  the  inequalities  of  temperature  in  differ- 
ent latitudes,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter,  are  redressed  by  like 
means. 

2d.  Another  effect  of  the  expansive  power  of  heat  is  well 
deserving  of  our  attention.  We  have  seen  in  a  former  chap- 
ter* how  the  regular  rate  oi  expansion  and  contraction  in  bodies 
acted  upon  by  heat  is  interrupted  in  the  single  case  of  water,  as 
if  with  the  express  intention  of  avoiding  the  evils  which  must 
ensue  if  ice  were  specifically  heavier  than  water.  One  effect  of 
this  exception  is,  that  when  we  cannot  convert  ice  into  water  or 
thaw  it,  the  volume  is  diminished,  although  the  temperature 
is  increased.  Yet  another  fact,  however,  and  one  still  more 
remarkable,  characterizes  this  change  as  well  as  the  corre- 
sponding one  of  the  conversion  of  water  into  vapor  or  steam. 
In  each  case,  that  of  thawing  ice  and  that  of  evaporating  wa- 


*  Part  i.  chap.  iii.  sec.  ii. 


MECHANICAL   PHILOSOPHY  A   RELIGIOUS   TEACHER,     jgi 

ter,  the  sensible  heat  increases  regularly  to  the  point  at  which 
liquefaction  or  vaporization  takes  place,  and  then  it  remains 
for  awhile  stationary,  even  though  new  supplies  of  heat  be 
added.  In  other  words,  we  cannot  raise  the  temperature  of  a 
thawing  mass  of  ice  till  the  whole  be  thawed,  nor  of  boiling 
water  till  it  is  all  converted  into  steam.  All  the  heat  that  we 
apply  while  these  changes  are  going  on  is  absorbed  or  be- 
comes latent  in  producing  them.  How  important  this  prop- 
erty !  Like  inertia,  in  respect  to  the  motion  of  masses,  this 
peculiarity  of  latent  heat  secures  that  the  change  from  ice  to 
water  and  from  water  to  steam  shall  be  gradual.  If  it  were 
otherwise,  both  thaw  and  evaporation  must  be  instantaneous, 
and  prove  as  destructive  as  they  are  now  safe  and  useful.  At 
the  first  touch  of  warmth  all  the  snow  which  lies  on  the  roofs 
of  our  houses  would  descend  like  a  water-spout  into  the 
streets ;  all  that  which  rests  on  the  ground  would  rush  like 
an  inundation  into  the  water-courses ;  the  snow-built  hut  of 
the  Esquimaux  would  vanish  like  a  house  in  a  pantomime ; 
the  icy  floor  of  the  river  would  be  gone  without  giving  any 
warning  to  the  skater  or  traveller ;  and  when,  in  heating  our 
water,  we  reach  the  boiling-point,  the  whole  fluid  would  "  flash 
into  steam,"  to  use  the  expression  of  engineers,  and  dissipate 
itself  in  the  atmosphere,  or  settle  in  dew  on  the  neighboring  ob- 
jects. It  is  obviously  necessary  for  the  purposes  of  human  life 
that  these  changes  should  be  of  a  more  gradual  and  manageable 
kind  than  such  as  we  have  now  described.  Yet  this  gradual 
progress  of  freezing  and  thawing,  of  evaporation  and  con- 
densation, is  produced,  so  far  as  we  can  discover,  by  a  par- 
ticular contrivance  introduced  as  an  exception  to  a  general 
law  and  expressly  for  this  one  purpose.  Like  the  freezing  of 
water  from  the  top  or  the  floating  of  ice,  the  moderating  of 
the  rate  of  these  changes  seems  to  be  the  result  of  a  violation 
of  a  law  which,  from  its  simplicity,  would  seem  to  be  the 
most  natural  law  for  all  cases.  At  certain  critical  points  it  is 
modified,  and  modified  precisely  in  that  way  which  produces 


192 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


these  important  benefits — may  we  not  add  ? — in  order  to  pro- 
duce them.* 

The  effect  of  heat  in  the  formation  and  distribution  of  va- 
por is  also  well  worthy  of  notice.  Water  evaporates  at  all 
temperatures,  even  when  frozen ;  so  that  what  we  call  the  air, 
or  atmosphere,  is  always  composed  of  two  elastic  and  invisi- 
ble substances — is,  in  fact,  two  atmospheres,  one  of  aqueous 
vapor,  the  other  of  common  air, — the  former  being  to  the  lat- 
ter in  the  ratio  say  of  r6o;  i.e.  the  proportion  of  aqueous 
vapor  to  that  of  common  air  in  the  atmosphere  is  on  an 
average  about  one  part  in  sixty.  Whenever  the  vapor,  at  any 
place,  falls  below  the  temperature  at  which  it  was  formed,  it 
returns  to  the  state  of  water,  or  is  condensed,  and,  if  it  be 
sufficiently  cold,  also  freezes.  In  either  case  clouds  are  formed, 
the  particles  of  which,  whether  liquid  or  frozen,  may  be  so 
small  that  they  float  in  the  atmosphere.  When  these  parti- 
cles are  aggregated  so  as  to  form  drops  of  rain  or  snowflakes, 
they  descend ;  and  as  clouds  are  attracted  round  the  brow  of 
mountains,  it  follows  that  larger  quantities  of  rain  and  snow 
will  fall  there  than  on  low  lands.  Thus,  by  means  of  heat 
water  is  transformed  into  vapor,  lifted  above  the  earth,  sus- 
pended over  its  surface,  and  transported  from  places  where  it 
was  superfluous  to  other  places  where  it  is  needed.  It  is  then 
restored  by  condensation  to  its  original  state,  and  brought 
back  as  dew,  rain,  hail,  or  snow  to  the  ground,  through  which 

*  Whewell's  Bridgewater  Treatise. 

Note. — The  actual  amount  of  vapor  in  the  atmosphere  at  any  one  time  is 
probably  never  as  much  as  half  the  greatest  amount  which  it  could  hold  in  so- 
lution, —  i.e.  a  quantity  equal  if  condensed  into  rain  to,  say  four  and  a  half 
inches  over  the  whole  surface  of  the  globe.  But  thirty  inches  of  rain  on  an 
average  falls  every  year,  so  that  the  vapor  must  have  fallen  and  been  re-evapo- 
rated fifteen  times  in  the  course  of  a  year,  and  this  is  exclusive  of  dew,  which  is 
evaporated  and  condensed  much  oftener,  and  which,  by  a  law  of  equal  simplicity 
and  beneficence,  bestows  its  favors  where  it  is  most  needed, — on  the  grass-plot 
and  cornfield, — not  on  the  rock,  the  naked  sand,  or  the  trodden  highway.  So 
rain  does  not  fall  on  tlie  arid  desert,  but  on  the  forest. 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER,     ig^ 

it  percolates  by  gravitation,  watering  plants  as  it  goes,  and 
finally  flowing  into  the  ocean  or  returning  back  directly  to  the 
air  by  evaporation.  Mr.  Dalton  has  calculated  that,  in  Eng- 
land, thirteen  out  of  thirty-six  parts  {i.e.  about  one-third)  of 
all  the  rain  that  falls  on  the  earth  have  been  drawn  by  evapo- 
ration from  the  ocean,  and  the  same  proportion  will,  of  course, 
be  delivered  back  to  the  ocean,  through  the  rivers  and  creeks 
which  are  its  tributaries. 

The  benefits  of  this  ceaseless  round  which  is  taken  by 
water  under  the  guidance  and  government  of  heat  are  mani- 
fold, and  not  less  manifold  than  the  testimonies  which  they 
yield  to  the  beneficent  and  provident  care  of  our  Heavenly 
Father.  1st.  The  vapor  distributed  throughout  the  atmos- 
phere comes  in  contact  with  the  leaves  of  plants,  and  thus 
supplies  a  nutriment  which  is  indispensable  to  their  growth ; 
and  in  hot  and  dry  weather,  when  most  needed,  this  supply  of 
vapor  is  most  abundant,  because  the  process  of  evaporation  is 
then  most  rapid.  2d,  The  condensation  of  this  vapor  into 
clouds  is  fraught  with  blessing.  In  summer,  these  clouds  act 
as  an  awning  or  pavilion,  excluding  the  scorching  beams  of 
the  sun,  and  thus  promoting  not  merely  the  comfort  of  ani- 
mals, but  the  growth  also  of  vegetables, — it  being  found  by 
Duhamel  that  they  gain  more  in  a  week  of  cloudy  weather 
than  in  a  month  of  hot  or  dry.  In  winter,  these  same  clouds 
become  a  warm  mantle,  arresting  the  escape  of  heat  from  the 
ground, — a  process  which  goes  on  most  rapidly  under  a  cloud- 
less sky,  as  is  apparent  from  the  fact,  so  well  known  to  all,  that 
the  clearest  nights  are  also  the  coldest.  Snow,  and  even  ice, 
answer  the  same  purpose  still  more  effectually,  inasmuch  as 
being  bad  conductors  of  heat,  and  being  near  the  ground,  they 
help  to  maintain  the  higher  temperature  which  the  earth  has, 
as  compared  with  the  atmosphere ;  and  they  thus  favor  the 
vital  action  going  on  at  the  root  of  plants,  while  the  water  in 
the  ground,  by  freezing  and  expanding,  loosens  and  pulver- 
izes the  soil,  and  at  the  same  time  serves  as  the  first  nourish- 
es 


194 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


ment  of  the  plant  in  early  spring.  3d.  The  use  of  rain  and 
dew  we  need  not  dwell  upon.  It  is  sufficient  to  observe,  that 
the  greater  proportionable  quantity  which  falls  on  elevated 
regions  is  needed  in  order  to  irrigate  the  soil  below,  and  that 
this  water,  as  it  rolls  down,  wears  off  and  bears  along  with  it 
the  substance  of  rock  and  earth,  thereby  contributing  to  re- 
plenish exhausted  land  and  to  enrich  the  country  through 
which  it  flows  ;  while  it  supplies,  at  the  same  time,  a  moving- 
power  for  machinery,  and  means,  often,  of  inland  navigation. 
The  uses  of  winds  are  quite  too  numerous  to  be  recounted 
here.  One  is  well  entitled  to  consideration.  The  ancients 
supposed  that  the  equatorial  regions  of  the  earth  were  unin- 
habitable, on  account  of  their  intense  heat.  Pliny,  following 
Aristotle,  says  :  "The  central  regions  of  the  earth,  where  the 
sun  runs  his  course,  are  burnt  up  with  fire.  The  temperate 
zones  which  lie  on  either  side  can  have  no  communication 
with  each  other  in  consequence  of  the  fervent  heat  of  this  re- 
gion." This  opinion  prevailed  down  through  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  was  never  fully  disproved  until  the  time  of  Columbus. 
The  evil  which  thus  haunted  the  imaginations  of  men  for 
centuries,  has  been  guarded  against  by  the  constitution  of  the 
atmosphere  and  by  the  nature  of  heat.  Currents  of  air  or 
winds  are  the  benignant  agents  that  fly  with  swift  wings 
through  space,  carrying  away  from  the  equatorial  parts  of  our 
globe  much  of  their  heat  to  assuage  the  fierceness  of  a  polar 
sky  and  temper  the  severity  of  winter  everywhere,  while 
counter-currents  flow  in,  loaded  with  cold,  to  breathe  vigor 
into  the  lanijuid  frames  of  those  who  dwell  beneath  a  torrid 


sun. 


There  arc  several  other  forces  besides  heat  and  gravity  which 
exert  great  influence  on  the  mechanical  changes  that  are  going 
on,  unceasingly,  over  the  globe,  as  well  as  on  the  equilibrium 
of  bodies.  Omitting,  for  the  present,  such  as  act  at  insen- 
sible distances,  and  belong  on  that  account  to  chemistry,  we 
merely  mention  Electricity,  Magnetism,  and  capillary  attraction 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER. 


195 


as  powers  constantly  at  work,  and  producing  vast  and  most 
beneficial  results.  In  considering  the  manner  in  which  they 
illustrate  the  Divine  character,  one  fact,  which  results  fi-om  a 
comparison  between  them,  is  striking  and  significant.  It  is 
well  known  that  the  intensity  of  the  force  of  gravitation  di- 
minishes in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the  square  of  the  distance  be- 
tween the  gravitating  bodies.  In  other  words,  if  the  force  of 
gravity  at  the  distance  of  ten  feet  from  the  centre  of  the  earth 
be  represented  by  four,  at  the  distance  of  twenty  feet  it  would 
be  represented  by  only  one ;  the  distance  being  increased  by 
two,  the  gravitation  will  be  diminished  by  the  square  of  two — 
i.e.  four.  The  point  to  which  we  wish  to  call  attention  is 
the  perfect  analogy  which,  in  this  respect,  subsists  between 
all  the  great  forces  in  nature.  Not  only  gravitation,  but  also 
heat,  electricity,  magnetism,  and  capillary  attraction  seem  to 
obey  the  same  laws,  their  intensities  always  varying  inversely 
as  the  squares  of  the  distance.  Whenever  in  works  of  art  we 
meet,  at  every  turn,  the  same  principle  or  feature  recurring  in 
objects  constructed  in  different  ways  and  for  different  pur- 
poses, we  do  not  doubt  that  this  principle  had  one  source,  and 
that  nothing  but  an  intelligent  unity  of  design  can  account 
for  it.  In  like  manner,  we  point  to  the  fact  that  the  same  law 
or  principle  characterizes  the  action  of  forces  apparently  so 
different,  as  proving  that  they  had  one  intelligent  Author,  and 
that  they  may  be,  in  truth,  but  different  phases  or  manifesta- 
tions of  one  power  in  nature. 

"  The  more,"  says  Sir  H.  Davy,*  "  the  phenomena  of  the 
universe  are  studied,  the  more  distinct  their  connection  ap 
pears,  the  more  simple  their  causes,  the  more  magnificent  their 
design,  and  the  more  wonderful  the  wisdom   and  power  of 
their  Author." 

5.    Thus  far  we   have   noticed  none  but  inanimate  forces, 
and  the  manner  in  which  they  conspire  to  produce  both  rest 


*  Elements  of  Chemical  Philosophy. 


196  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

and  motion  among  terrestrial  bodies.  There  is  one  other 
force  which  maybe  characterized  z.s>  2i  living  force :  it  is  the 
power  exerted  by  men,  by  animals,  and  even  by  vegetables, 
in  counteracting  and  modifying  the  effect  of  material  forces, 
and  which  is  considered  here  in  its  mechanical  aspect  only. 
Left  to  themselves,  those  forces  would  maintain  a  certain 
course  often  beneficial,  yet  more  frequently,  perhaps,  destruc- 
tive to  living  and  sensitive  beings.  Gravitation,  for  instance, 
not  counteracted,  would  fix  every  animal  to  the  spot  on  which 
that  animal  is  born.  In  moving  to  obtain  food  and  satisfy 
other  wants,  he  has  to  overcome  this  force.  Hence  all  ani- 
mals are  furnished  with  a  power  which  may  be  regarded  for 
the  present  as  mechanical,  and  which,  coupled  with  more  or 
less  intelligence,  enables  them  to  react  upon  the  outer  world 
and  master  or  withstand  the  forces  which  would  injure  them, 
and  even  to  change  those  forces  into  friends  and  auxiliaries. 
This  power  of  acting,  as  well  as  of  being  acted  upon,  is  pecu- 
liar to  living  bodies,  and,  as  manifested  in  man  especially, 
tends  greatly  to  modify  the  character  and  succession  of 
mechanical  phenomena.  The  inanimate  forces  in  nature  man 
cannot  annihilate,  but  he  can,  in  some  instances,  overcome 
them  by  means  of  his  muscular  strength,  as,  for  example,  in 
walking  he  overcomes  the  power  of  gravity,  inertia,  and  fric- 
tion. In  other  cases,  he  evades  the  direct  action  of  a  material 
force,  as  when  he  employs  an  inclined  plane  to  reduce  the 
gravitating  force  of  a  body  within  such  limits  that  he  can 
support  or  raise  it.  In  other  instances,  again,  he  transforms 
these  natural  powers  from  antagonists  into  helpers  or  ser- 
vants, as  when  he  uses  the  weight  of  water  falling  down  a  cata- 
ract to  move  machinery,  or  to  raise  him,  without  effort  of  his 
own,  from  the  foot  of  that  cataract  to  its  summit. 

6.  But  man  is  //in/self  a  viacliinc,  planned  and  put  to"-ether 
with  marvellous  skill.  Within  this  microcosm  of  ours,  con- 
sidered merely  as  matter,  what  an  as.semblage  of  lev^ers,  pul- 
leys, cords,  joints,  braces,  tie-beams,  pillars,  arches,  walls,  roof! 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER. 


197 


Many  of  the  bones  in  the  human  body  are  levers,  precisely 
adapted  in  length,  rigidity,  and  velocity  of  motion  to  their 
several  uses.  These  levers  are  moved  by  muscles,  instead  of 
cordage,  and  they  turn  on  joints  which,  according  to  the  mo- 
tions required,  are  hinge  joints,  ball-and-socket  joints,  toggle 
joints,  or  mortise  and  tenon  joints.  The  surfaces  of  these 
joints  are  kept  lubricated  by  a  fluid  which,  like  oil  in  com- 
mon machinery,  serves  to  diminish  friction.  When  velocity 
is  wanted  at  the  expense  of  force,  it  is  obtained ;  so  where 
force  is  to  be  gained  at  the  expense  of  velocity.  The  bones 
of  the  leg  are  made  hollow,  to  save  weight  and  material,  with- 
out lessening  strength  ;  they  are  strengthened,  when  strength 
is  most  needed,  by  ridges,  like  the  braces  in  carpentry ;  they 
are  adapted  to  their  place  and  purpose  more  accurately,  ac- 
cording to  Sir  C.  Bell,  than  the  most  perfect  pillar  or  king- 
post.* Does  man  stand  ?  He  is  an  edifice,  needing  stability; 
and  arches  are  provided  in  his  feet,  formed  on  principles,  says 
the  same  high  authority,  "  more  correct  than  the  foundation 
of  that  perfection  of  human  architecture,  the  Eddystone  light- 
house." On  these  arches  rest  columns  to  support  the  su- 
perior parts  of  the  structure ;  and  over  all  is  the  dome,  or 
head,  composed  of  arches  joined  in  a  manner  the  most  exact, 
and  secured  against  spreading  by  abutments  and  tie-beams. 
But  this  building  is  intended  for  motion  as  well  as  rest.  It 
cannot  be  fastened  as  a  statue  is  to  the  pedestal  on  which  it 
stands,  and  without  which  fastening  the  statue  could  not  re- 
main erect  for  an  instant.  Hence  there  is  an  internal  mech- 
anism of  muscles  and  nerves,  through  the  latter  of  which  the 
living  man  receives  instant  notice  of  the  slightest  deviation 
in  his  posture  from  the  perpendicular,  while  through  the 
former  this  deviation  is  as  instantly  corrected. 

Does  man  move  ?     He  has  organs  perfectly  adapted  to  that 
purpose ;  and  on  the  instant,  all  framed  and  established  as  he 


*  Animal  Mechanics  of  Sir  Charles  Bell, 


198 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


is,  the  edifice  becomes  locomotive.  The  foot  which,  with  its 
arches,  lately  supported  him,  is  at  once  transformed  into  an 
instrument  of  motion.  The  same  column,  which  lately  stood 
firmly  on  it,  is  now  swung  forward  as  a  lever,  in  order  to  find 
a  new  place  for  the  foundation  of  the  house.  The  muscles, 
which  were  lately  employed  only  in  redressing  disturbances 
in  the  place  of  the  centre  of  gravity,  have  now  new  employ- 
ment superadded,  and  in  different  parts  of  the  body  five  hun- 
dred of  these  cords — being  twice  the  number  of  the  lines  in 
a  ship  of  the  largest  class — are  hanging  ready  to  aid  in  mov- 
ing, trimming,  or  guiding  the  noble  vessel,  —  a  vessel  which 
sprang  into  existence  at  first  in  all  its  matchless  perfection, 
while  vessels  of  human  workmanship  have  been  thousands  of 
years  in  reaching  an  excellence  immeasurably  inferior. 

Look  again  at  the  involitfitajy  mechanical  functions.  Does 
man  breathe  ?  One  hundred  muscles  have  to  be  employed 
in  every  respiration,  whether  sleeping  or  waking.  Does  his 
heart  beat  ?  It  is  a  powerful  engine,  making  sixty-six  strokes 
in  a  minute,  and  driving  fluid  along  a  system  of  pipes  which 
have  been  laid  down  through  every  limb  and  every  fibre  of 
the  system  ;  and  all  along  these  pipes  there  is  a  contractile 
power  by  which  the  propulsion  from  the  heart  is  aided  and 
the  blood  is  carried  forward  in  one  continuous  flow.  Does 
the  stomach  receive  food?  Instantly  the  muscles  of  that  or- 
gan and  the  biliary  and  pancreatic  ducts  are  excited  to  action. 
The  food,  transmuted  into  chyle  and  mixed  with  the  bile  and 
pancreatic  juices,  passes  onward  ;  and  then,  to  strain  it  off  into 
the  blood,  myriads  of  capillary  tubes — i.e.  pipes  as  small  as 
hairs — open  their  orifices  into  the  cavity  of  every  part  of  the 
intestines.  These  tubes,  which  are  so  fine  and  slender  as  not 
to  be  visible  except  when  distended  with  chyle,  soon  unite 
into  larger  branches.  The  pipes  formed  of  this  union  termi- 
nate in  glands,  from  which  other  pipes  of  a  still  larger  diam- 
eter arising,  carry  the  chyle  from  all  parts  into  a  common 
reservoir  or  receptacle ;  and  thence,  again,  a  main  pipe  climbs 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER. 


199 


up  the  back  part  of  the  chest  and  creeps  along  the  gullet, 
and  there  discharges  itself  into  a  large  vein,  that,  mixing 
with  the  old  blood,  it  may  enter  the  heart  and  be  carried 
thence  to  the  lungs.  To  borrow  the  words  of  another,  "  The 
heart  does  the  office  both  of  a  sucking-  and  a  forcing-pump  ; 
and  after  having  drawn  the  blood  towards  it,  and  forced  it  into 
the  lungs,  where  it  is  aerated,  receives  it  again  and  sends  it  as 
arterial  blood  to  the  extremities  of  the  body."* 

But  how  inadequate  all  such  sketches  of  the  mechanism  of 
the  human  frame  !  Every  part  of  that  frame — the  hand,  the 
foot,  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  neck,  the  tongue,  the  teeth — would 
by  itself  afford  themes  for  a  volume.  All  that  we  can  do  is 
to  refer  to  such  Works  as  have  expounded  portions  of  the 
subject, — such  as  those  of  Paley,  Bell  in  his  Animal  Mechanics, 
and  also  in  his  Treatise  on  the  Hand,  and  his  Notes  and  Dis- 
sertations on  Paley,  Roget  and  Kirby  in  their  Bridgewater 
Treatises,  and  among  the  ancients,  Aristotle  and  Galen.  The 
few  facts  which  we  have  just  mentioned,  can  we  consider  them 
deeply  ?  Can  we  remember  the  number  and  variety  of  the 
functions  which  are  performed  through  the  mechanism  of  the 
body,  or  compare  these  with  the  few  simple  motions  per- 
formed by  the  most  perfect  specimens  of  human  mechanism 
(such  as  Maelzel's  automata)  ?  Can  we  observe,  above  all, 
the  complexity  of  the  apparatus  on  which  life  depends,  the 
innumerable  derangements  it  is  liable  to,  the  ease,  safety, 
and  regularity  with  which  each  part  performs  its  allotted 
office,  and  yet  not  feel  that  boundless  wisdom  and  power  can 
alone  account  for  the  origin  and  preservation  of  such  a  sys- 
tem ?  Galen  was  converted  by  his  dissections,  and  "  could 
not  but  own,"  says  Addison,  a  "  Supreme  Being  upon  a  sur- 
vey of  this  his  handiwork."  But  ages  before  dissections  were 
tolerated, — long  ere  Aristotle  and  Hippocrates  had  opened  a 
path  into  this  world  of  wonders, — when  Cimmerian  darkness 


Paley. 


200  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

rested  over  Anatomy  and  Physiology,  the  internal  structure 
of  man's  frame  seems  to  have  been  revealed  to  the  sweet 
singer  of  Israel  and  the  holy  man  of  Uz.  Who  guided  their 
pens  when  they  wrote  of  a  structure  "  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully made;  of  parts  curiously  wrought;  clothed  with  skin  and 
flesh,  and  fenced  with  bones  and  sinews," — tracing  its  gradual 
growth  from  "  the  imperfect  substance  in  the  womb  to  the 
members  which,  in  continuance,  are  fashioned  when  as  yet 
there  was  none  of  them,"  until  at  length  this  structure,  in  all 
its  symmetry  and  perfection,  stands  forth  ?  What  but  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Almighty  could  have  enabled  them  to  project 
their  minds  hundreds  or  thousands  of  years  in  advance  of 
science,  and  employ  language  which  is  only  growing  more 
and  more  significant  with  every  discovery  in  Physiology?  We 
do  not,  of  course,  mean  literally  significant;  but  simply  that, 
as  the  language  of  poetry,  it  seems  to  become  more  and  more 
expressive  and  felicitous  in  proportion  as  we  become  more 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the   mysteries   of  our  corporeal 

nature. 

Remember,  however,  that  man  is  but  one  of  an  almost 
illimitable  variety  of  animal  frames.*  The  Entomologist 
reckons  up  some  three  hundred  thousand  different  species  of 
insects  ;  the  Herpetologist  not  less  than  fifteen  hundred  known 
species  of  reptiles  ;  the  Ichthyologist  about  eight  thousand 
species  of  fishes ;  the  Ornithologist  about  six  thousand  of 
birds,  and  the  Zoologist  one  thousand  of  Mammalia,  twenty- 
five  hundred  of  Zoophytes,  and  eight  thousand  of  Mollusca. 
Yet  in  each  case  the  mechanism  is  so  modified  as  to  suit,  with 

*One  of  the  ablest  living  Naturalists  (Lyell)  comes  to  the  conclusion  that,  if 
we  include  plants  and  exclude  microscopic  beings,  we  shall  have  a  grand  total 
of  between  one  and  two  millions  of  species  now  inhabiting  the  terraqueous 
globe.  "Were  we  to  add  to  these  the  extinct  species  as  yet  most  imperfectly 
known  but  doubtless  transcending  the  existing*  species  many  times  told,  we  should 
have  a  variety  of  organized  structures  that  might  appall  the  boldest  spectator. 

*  See  Owen  on  Br.  Reptiles  and  Mammalia,  in  Rep.  of  Br.  Assoc. 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER.     20I 

faultless  precision,  the  wants  and  habits  of  the  animal.  The 
organs  of  locomotion,  of  digestion,  of  circulation,  of  respira- 
tion, of  reproduction,  each  are  fitted,  as  it  respects  mechanism 
and  structure,  to  their  use  and  end  in  a  manner  which  is 
found  to  be  more  and  more  admirable  just  in  proportion  as  it 
is  better  and  better  understood.  Say  not  with  the  Epicureans 
of  old  that  the  accidental  configuration  of  these  parts  is  the 
cause  of  the  different  uses  made  of  them,  since,  to  adopt  the 
answer  of  Galen,  "  the  young  ones  of  the  several  kinds  of 
animals,  before  their  parts  are  grown  up,  strive  to  make  the 
same  use  of  them  as  others  do.  Thus,  take  three  eggs,  one 
of  an  eagle,  another  of  a  duck,  and  a  third  of  a  serpent,  and, 
after  they  are  hatched  through  a  moderate  heat,  we  shall  find 
that  when  they  are  but  newly  hatched,  the  two  first  will  be 
striving  to  fly  before  they  have  wings,  and  the  third  endeavor- 
ing to  creep  away  on  its  belly  ;  and  if  you  breed  them  up  to 
greater  perfection  and  bring  them  into  the  open  air,  you  will 
presently  see  the  young  eagle  mounting  into  the  air,  the  duck 
waddling  in  a  pool,  and  the  serpent  creeping  under  ground." 
Before  we  ascribe  this  to  necessity  or  accident,  we  should  wait 
with  Stillingfleet  "  till  we  see  a  thousand  blind  men  run  the 
point  of  a  sword  in  at  a  key-hole  without  once  missing ;  till 
we  find  them  all  frisking  together  in  a  spacious  field  and  ex- 
actly meeting  all  at  last  in  the  very  middle  of  it ;  till  we 
find,  as  Tully  speaks,  the  annals  of  Ennius  fairly  written  in  a 
heap  of  sand,  and,  as  Kepler's  wife  told  him,  a  room  full  of 
herbs,  moving  up  and  down,  fall  down  into  the  exact  order  of 
salads, — then  may  we  think  the  atomical  hypothesis  proba- 
ble, and  not  before."* 

In  considering  the  mechanism  of  man  and  other  animals, 
there  is  another  point  which  well  deserves  our  notice  :  it  is 
the  perfect  adjustment  between  the  living  forces  in  animals, 
and,  we  may  add,  in  vegetables,  and  the  forces  in  inorganic  or 

*  Stillingfleet's  Origines  Sacrse,  i.  p.  463. 


202  I'HE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

inanimate  nature.  This  is  such  that  any  material  change 
would  induce  the  utmost  disorder  and  suffering.  Suppose, 
for  example,  the  muscular  power  of  animals  remaining  the 
same,  the  force  of  gravity  were  to  be  materially  increased,  "  it 
is  manifest,"  saysWhewell,  "  that  all  the  swiftness  and  strength 
and  grace  of  animal  motions  must  disappear.  Now,  why  is  it 
that  the  quantity  of  matter  in  the  earth  or  in  animal  bodies 
corresponds  so  happily  with  the  intensity  of  the  vital  forces  ? 
We  can  see  no  necessity  for  the  precise  magnitude  that  the 
earth  now  has,  nor  can  we  assign  any  reason  why  it  should 
not  have  been  as  large  as  Jupiter  or  as  small  as  Mercury,  since 
the  masses  of  the  planets  seem  to  follow  no  regular  law."* 
The  same  remark  may  be  applied  to  the  size  of  animals,  and 
also  to  that  of  vegetables,  in  which  last  we  see  the  same  per- 
fect adjustment  between  the  force  which  raises  the  sap,  the 
magnitude  of  the  plant,  and  the  intensity  of  gravitation.  I 
can  conceive  of  no  explanation  at  all  adequate  to  the  diffi- 
culty, except  that  these  quantities,  in  themselves  so  independ- 
ent of  each  other,  have  been  selected  with  special  reference  to 
the  wants  and  enjoyments  of  sensitive  creatures,  and  that  they 
thus  serve  to  proclaim  the  watchful  care  and  beneficence  of 
that  Being  who  weighed  the  mountains  in  scales  and  the  hills 
in  a  balance ;  who  holdeth  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand,  and  who  doth  not  suffer  even  a  sparrow  to  fall  unnoticed 
to  the  ground. 

Throughout  this  chapter  we  have  dwelt  on  the  fearful  evils 
which  would  ensue  were  any  material  change  to  be  made  in 
the  mechanical  constitution  of  the  universe.  It  is  a  subject 
on  which  beings  so  limited  and  straitened  in  intelligence  as 
we  are,  ought  to  express  themselves  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
dence. But  one  consideration  besides  those  already  mentioned, 
and  one  significant  of  the  Wisdom  and  Beneficence  of  the 
Author  of  these  laws,  may  be  found  in  the  fact  that  any  ma- 


*  Bridgewater  Treatise. 


MECHANICAL  PHILOSOPHY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER. 


203 


terial  change  of  which  we  can  conceive,  whether  in  the  laws 
of  gravitation  or  of  heat,  of  friction  or  of  muscular  power, 
would  draw  after  it  not  only  certain  direct  evils,  but  would  be 
attended  also  by  an  almost  infinite  train  of  incidental  and  col- 
lateral evils  by  reason  of  the  innumerable  other  laws  and 
operations  with  which  that  single  one  would  be  found  to  be 
connected  and  complicated  ;  and  those  evils,  as  far  as  we  can 
comprehend,  could  be  averted  only  by  such  changes  in  each 
one  of  those  other  laws  as  would  adapt  then:  to  the  new  state 
of  things  created  by  the  first  change.  Thus,  one  change  in 
the  mechanical  and  material  constitution  of  the  universe  would 
seem  to  introduce  the  necessity  of  further  change  throughout 
all  its  parts.  The  human  mechanician  can  arrest  the  motion 
of  his  machinery, — can  take  out  one  of  its  parts  and  substi- 
tute another  of  different  construction,  and  perhaps  not  alter 
thereby  essentially  the  general  working  of  the  instrument. 
Not  so  with  the  mechanism  of  the  Universe,  more  intimately 
connected  and  interdependent  as  it  is  in  its  parts,  more  com- 
plicated as  well  as  more  refined  in  its  movements.  Change, 
for  example,  the  constitution  of  the  air  with  respect  to  the 
transmission  of  sound  and  light,  and  no  finite  intelligence 
could  compute  the  number  and  magnitude  of  the  alterations 
which  would  become  necessary  throughout  nature  in  order  to 
restore  the  operations  of  the  system  to  its  harmony  and  be- 
nignant influence.  Corresponding  changes  must  take  place  in 
the  organs  for  seeing  and  hearing  of  all  orders  of  animals  on 
the  globe.  These  last  changes,  again,  would  necessitate  cor- 
responding alterations  in  the  structure  and  workings  of  that 
invisible  and  spiritual  mechanism  through  which  impressions 
made  on  the  external  organs  become  sources  of  knowledge, 
of  emotion,  and  of  action.  So,  again,  in  sounding  and  lumi- 
niferous  bodies,  there  must  be  changes  to  enable  them  to  adapt 
the  force  or  direction  of  their  vibrations  to  the  altered  nature 
of  the  medium  they  are  to  traverse ;  and  who  knows  that  the 
mechanical  constitution   of  the  atmosphere,  with   respect  to 


204  "^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

sound  or  light,  could  be  altered  without  altering  all  its  other 
properties,  so  that  as  a  medium  of  respiration — a  source  of 
winds  and  vapors,  a  moving-power  in  mechanics,  an  instru- 
ment of  voice — its  value  might  all  at  once  be  destroyed  ? 

With  one  other  remark  we  will  close  these  Mechanical  Il- 
lustrations. We  have  thus  far  directed  attention  to  the  proxi- 
mate causes  of  motion, — such  as  heat,  gravitation,  and  mus- 
cular power,  —  and  have  shown,  in  some  few  respects,  how 
happily  these  have  been  adapted  to  show  forth  the  goodness, 
wisdom,  and  holiness  of  God.  But,  as  proximate  causes  of 
motion,  each  of  these  forces  prompts  the  mind  to  inquire  after 
the  ultimate  and  efficient  ground  of  all  motion  and  all  force. 
Whence  did  heat  and  gravity  and  muscular  contractility  derive 
their  energies  ?  They  are  but  unconscious  involuntary  agents. 
They  can  originate  nothing.  In  themselves  inert,  passive,  they 
can  have  only  what  has  been  given, — can  exert  but  the  power 
that  has  been  borrowed  from  without.  "  Nothing,"  says 
Berkeley,  "  that  we  know  under  the  name  of  body  or  matter 
contains  in  it  what  can  possibly  be  the  beginning  or  efficient 
cause  of  motion  ;"  and  the  ancients,  as  long  ago  as  the  time 
of  Anaxagoras,  laid  it  down  as  an  apothegm  that  all  motion 
has  its  origin  in  mind.  How  large  a  portion  of  our  own  me- 
chanical motions  originate  in  the  previous  volition  of  our 
minds,  experience  clearly  teaches ;  and  this  experience,  com- 
bined with  the  evident  and  acknowledged  inefficiency  of  all 
matter  and  all  mechanical,  chemical,  or  vital  forces,  as  primary 
and  independent  sources  of  motion,  and  with  the  irrepressible 
disposition  of  untutored  children  and  savages,  to  ascribe  all 
mechanical  changes  to  the  presence  of  a  living,  intelligent 
power, — all  this  seems  to  force  upon  us  the  conviction  that 
the  Will  of  an  Infinitely-powerful  Being  can  alone  account  for 
the  various  and  stupendous  movements  of  the  material  uni- 
verse. "All  that  is  in  motion,"  says  Aristotle,  "  refers  us  to  a 
mover ;  and  it  were  but  an  endless  adjournment  of  causes  were 
there  not  di  primary  immovable  Mover." 


CHAPTER   II. 
CHEMISTRY  A  RELIGIOUS  TEACHER. 

OF  the  Sciences  which  have  distinguished  themselves 
during  the  last  century  as  practical  Benefactors  of  man- 
kind, perhaps  none  is  more  worthy  of  notice  than  Chemistry. 
Within  that  century  it  has  bestowed  on  the  mechanical  arts 
their  most  powerful  auxiliary,  since  it  is  within  that  time  that 
the  Steam-Engine  has  acquired  most  of  its  efficiency  and 
value.  It  has  also  contributed  to  improve  and  cheapen  many 
of  the  operations  in  different  departments  of  industry,  such 
as  bleaching,  dyeing,  sugar-refining,  and  tanning.  But  in 
every  such  useful  application  of  Chemical  Science  we  behold 
a  new  proof  of  Divine  Wisdom  and  Goodness,  and  even  of 
Divine  Rectitude,  since  each  shows  that  the  natural  world  has 
been  stored  with  powers  and  substances  which  remain  latent 
till  they  are  drawn  forth  by  man's  inquisitive  mind  and  skil- 
ful hand  ;  but  which  are  no  sooner  discovered  than  they  serve 
to  redouble  the  power  of  his  Industry  and  the  means  of  his 
enjoyment.  Here,  then,  as  elsewhere,  there  is  a  twofold  indi- 
cation of  the  Divine  Beneficence:  ist,  in  constituting  agents 
so  perfectly  fitted  for  man's  service  and  the  promotion  of  his 
physical  well-being;  and  2d,  vouchsafing  the  possession  and 
use  of  them  only  on  conditions  which  conduce  directly  to  his 
intellectual — and  may  we  not  add  ? — to  his  moral  and  spiritual 
improvement. 

The  use  and  application  of  Chemistry  in  Agriculture  and 
Manufactures  is  attracting,  at  present,  a  large  share  of  atten- 
tion throughout  the  world.  It  will  be  our  object,  in  this 
chapter,  to  suggest  another  use  of  the  Science,  not  less  interest- 
ing or   important,  though   less   frequently  discussed.     If  the 

(205) 


2o6  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

improved  cultivation  of  the  soil  be  of  great  moment  to  man- 
kind, it  should  not  be  forgotten  that  there  is  another  and  yet 
hisjher  culture,  even  that  of  the  mind  and  the  heart.  Man 
eats  and  drinks  and  builds  and  provides  raiment,  not  because 
these  in  themselves  are  great  and  ultimate  ends  of  his  being, 
but  mainly  because  he  thereby  better  fits  himself  for  that 
moral  and  spiritual  Jinsbandry  which  would  rear,  on  the  soil  of 
his  own  soul,  the  undying  plants  of  faith,  hope,  and  charity, 
and  which  can  alone  supply  him  with  that  bread  from  heaven 
that  fills  without  satiating  the  cravings  of  an  immortal  nature. 
To  show  how  the  study  of  Chemical  Philosophy  can  be  made 
to  conduce  to  this  object  is  the  special  aim  of  this  chapter. 

The  religious  instruction  to  be  derived  from  Chemistry  will 
become  more  apparent  if  we  consider — i.  The  Lazvs  of  Chemi- 
cal Affinity.  2.  The  materials  which  have  been  provided  in 
nature  for  this  afiinity  to  act  upon.  3.  Its  agency  in  main- 
taining the  phenomena  of  animal  and  vegetable  life. 

The  Laws  of  Chemical  Affinity. — Chemical  Affinity  is 
a  force  which  acts  not  on  masses  of  matter,  but  on  the  par- 
ticles or  molecules  which  compose  such  masses.  Its  attractive 
force  is  exerted  only  at  insensible  distances ;  it  acts  only  be- 
tween substances  of  different  kinds  ;  and  its  effect  is  to  change 
only  the  interior  state  of  bodies.  When  a  force  acts  at  sen- 
sible distances  and  on  masses  of  matter,  it  is  called  a  meclian- 
ical  force.  When  it  acts  at  insensible  distances,  but  between 
homogeneous  particles,  it  is  called  cohesion.  Affinity  acts  only 
between  heterogeneous  particles,  just  as  electrical  and  mag- 
netic attraction  is  an  attraction  only  between  opposite  or  heter- 
ogeneous polarities.  Herein  Chemical  Affinity  differs  from 
cohesion,  as  well  as  in  the  fact  that  it  unites  particles  not  by 
aggregation,  as  cohesion  docs,  but  by  incorporation  ;  such 
that  there  is  a  mutual  union  and  interpenetration  of  the  ele- 
mentary substances,  in  many  cases  so  perfect  that  the  distin- 
guishing properties  of  those  substances  disappear,  and  prop- 
erties wholly  new  are  developed.     Finally,  particles  united  by 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS    TEACHER. 


207 


cohesion  are  separated  by  abrasion,  or  by  a  dividing  plane, 
and  when  thus  separated  remain  unchanged ;  particles  com- 
bined by  affinity  need  to  be  decomposed,  and  then  each  con- 
stituent is  found  to  resume  all  its  original  qualities.  In  many 
cases  both  the  composition  and  decomposition  of  bodies  are 
effected  by  means  of  electricity,  and  it  may  be  that  chemical 
affinity  is  only  a  modification  of  that  mysterious  and  all-per- 
vading agent.     On  this  question,  however,  we  need  not  enter. 

It  will  be  evident,  that  in  considering  chemical  phenomena 
and  laws,  the  mind  must  be  directed  beyond  bodies,  as  they 
usually  exist  in  nature,  to  the  simple  or  elementary  substances 
out  of  which  they  are  constituted.  Of  these  simple  substances 
Chemists  have  discovered  some  sixty  in  all,  of  which  forty- 
eight  are  metals.  The  endless  variety  of  compound  bodies, 
then,  which  we  observe  in  nature, — whether  they  be  solid, 
liquid,  or  aeriform,  organic  or  inorganic, — maybe  resolved  into 
two  or  more  of  these  simple  bodies.  Whatever  chemical 
changes  take  place,  whether  of  composition  or  decomposition, 
whether  they  transpire  in  animate  or  inanimate  substances,  are 
but  the  marching  and  countermarching  of  these  same  ele- 
mentary substances  under  the  direction,  in  part,  of  affinity ;  and 
what  is  especially  worthy  of  remark,  the  greatest  proportion  of 
these  changes,  especially  as  they  occur  in  organized  bodies, 
the  marvellous  transformations  which  substances  undergo  in 
the  bodies  of  animals  and  of  plants,  involve,  for  the  most  part, 
but  four  02it  of  these  sixty  simple  bodies,  viz.,  oxygeji,  hydrogen, 
nitrogen,  and  carbon.  How  admirable  the  skill  and  economy 
which,  out  of  so  small  a  number  of  materials,  can  elaborate 
such  an  infinite  diversity  of  objects ! 

Here,  then,  is  an  attractive  force  (chemical  affinity)  between 
heterogeneous  substances.  The  general  value  of  such  a  force 
is  too  obvious  to  require  remark.  Without  it  all  bodies  or 
masses  of  matter  would  be  homogeneous,  and,  accordingly, 
the  different  kinds  of  bodies  could  be  multiplied  only  by  the 
creation  of  so  many  independent  and  different  kinds  of  mat- 


2o8  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

ten     Noiv  some  sixty   different  simple  substances  yield  by 
combination  an  endless  diversity  in  bodies.     Without  affinity 
we  must  consent  either  to  surrender  this  diversity  or  must  tax 
the  Creator  to  modify  his  creative  energies  in  all  the  countless 
ways  referred  to.     But  remark  further  in  respect  to  this  force, 
that  it  is,  1st,  ^.  graduated  force.     A  simple  substance,  having 
affinity  in  a  slight  degree  for  a  second,  may  for  a  third  have 
a  stronger  affinity,  for  a  fourth  one  yet  stronger,  and  so  on 
to  any  extent.     Thus,  alcohol  has  an  affinity  for  camphor,  for 
it  will   dissolve  it ;    but  it  has   more  affinity    for  water,  for 
if  water  be  poured   upon    camphorated    spirits,    the  alcohol 
separates  from  the  camphor  and  unites  with  the  water.     Or, 
to  take  a  better  example  from  an  old  chemist  (Stahl) :  "  In 
spirit  of  nitre  dissolve  silver;  put  in  copper,  and  the  silver  is 
thrown  down ;  put  in  iron,  and  the  copper  goes  down ;  put  in 
zinc,  the  iron  precipitates ;    put  in  volatile  alkali,  the  zinc  is 
separated ;  put  in  fixed  alkali,  and  the  volatile  alkali  quits  its 
hold."*     Thus  we  have  spirit  of  nitre  preferring,  in  succession, 
six  bodies  :  first  silver,  for  which  its  affinity  is  feeblest,  then 
copper,  then  iron,  then  zinc,  then  volatile    alkali,  and  lastly 
fixed  alkali.     Where  affinity  is  very  weak,  as  between  water 
and  most  of  the  solids  which  it  dissolves,  or  as  between  the 
two  gases  that  form  the  atmosphere,  the  properties  of  the  in- 
gredients are  not  wholly  obliterated,  but  merely  qualified,  or, 
as  it  were,  diluted,  thus  the  better  adapting  them  to  use.   The 
gradations   in   this    force   to   which  we   have    referred,   open 
boundless  scope,  too,  for  the  play  of  what  is  called  elective 
affinities,  and  thus  secure  that  compositions  and   decompo- 
sitions shall  continually  take  place  both  in  nature  and  under 
the  direction  of  man. 

But,  2d.  If  we  take  two  (simple)  substances,  having  a  mu- 
tual affinity,  it  is  a  fact  deserving  special  consideration  that 
these  same  substances  cati  be  couibiiied  in  different  proportions^ 

*  Whewell's  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences. 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS    TEACHER. 


209 


and  that  the  rcs2ilt,  in  each  case,  is  a  new  compound,  differing 
from  the  preceding  compounds  as  much,  perhaps,  as  they  dif- 
fered from  the  ingredients.  Thus,  chlorine  and  mercury  united 
in  one  proportion  form  the  medicine,  calomel ;  in  another  the 
poison,  corrosive  sublimate.  If  from  the  inorganic  we  pass 
to  the  organic  world,  we  find  in  vegetables  that  "  the  sweet 
crystallizable  principle  of  the  sugar,  the  bitter  febrifuge  of  the 
willow  bark,  the  fixed  and  permanent  acid  of  the  grape,  the 
highly  volatile  acid  of  vinegar,  and  many  other  equally  well- 
contrasted  substances,  are  composed  of  the  same  three  ele- 
mentary bodies,  merely  differing  slightly  in  the  proportions 
in  which  they  are  associated.  A  very  few  grains  of  the  vege- 
table alkali,  morphia,  or  a  fraction  of  a  grain  of  another  member 
of  the  same  chemical  family,  strychnia,  will  destroy  life.  The 
bread  we  subsist  upon  owes  its  nutritious  power  to  a  combi- 
nation of  the  very  same  elements  which,  in  other  circumstances, 
give  rise  to  the  poisonous  juice  of  the  poppy,  or  the  still 
more  deadly  principle  of  the  nux  vomica."*  Thus  we  see  to 
what  a  multitude  of  different  and  even  opposite  uses  Infinite 
wisdom  has  been  able  to  apply  the  very  same  substances, 
mereily  by  varying  the  proportions  in  which  they  can  combine. 
But,  3d.  It  is  equally  worthy  of  remark  that  the  number  of 
these  compounds,  which  can  be  formed  from  a  union  of  the 
same  elements  in  different  proportions,  is  limited,  extending 
to  no  cases  except  those  in  which  the  numbers  representing 
the  proportions  are  multiples  of  those  which  represent  the 
simple  ratio  of  combination.  The  final  cause  of  this  seems 
to  be  obvious.  "  Were  it  otherwise,"  says  Mr.  Whewell,  in 
his  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  "  were  each  element 
ready  to  combine  with  any  other  indifferently,  and  indiffer- 
ently in  any  quantity,  we  should  have  a  world  in  which  all 
would  be  confusion  and  indefiniteness.  There  would  be  no 
fixed  kinds  of  bodies ;  salts  and  stones  and  ores  would  ap- 

*  Fownes's  Prize  Essay. 
14 


210  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

proach  to  and  graduate  into  each  other  by  insensible  degrees. 
Instead  of  this  we  know  that  the  world  consists  of  bodies 
distinguishable  from  each  other  by  definite  differences,  capa- 
ble of  being  classified  and  named,  and  of  having  general  propo- 
sitions asserted  concerning  them.  And  as  we  cannot  con- 
ceive," the  same  writer  adds,  "a  world  in  which  this  should 
not  be  the  case,  it  would  appear  that  we  cannot  conceive  a 
state  of  things  in  which  the  laws  of  the  combinations  of  ele- 
ments should  not  be  of  that  definite  and  measured  kind 
which  we  have  above  described."*  In  thus  maintaining  that 
these  laws  are  necessaiy,  and  that  they  form  an  indispensable 
element  in  our  conceptions,  Mr.  Whewell  has  reproduced,  in 
connection  with  Chemistry,  an  idea  which  pervades  the  great 
work  just  mentioned,  and  which  he  applies,  in  the  spirit  of  a 
Platonic  philosopher,  to  all  physical  laws  whatever.  In  this 
respect  there  seems  to  be  a  material  discrepancy  between  the 
views  contained  in  this  his  last  and  most  elaborate  work  and 
those  set  forth  in  his  Bridgcivatcr  Treatise,  where  he  frequently 
insists  that  the  laws  in  nature  have  the  character  of  arbitrary 
appointments,  selected  not  from  any  intrinsic  necessity,  but  in 
part,  at  least,  because  they  were  such  as  would  conduce  to  the 
Divine  glory  and  the  welfare  of  all  animated  beings.  The 
latter  would  seem  to  be  the  more  correct  view.  In  maintain- 
ing that  "  we  cannot  conceive  a  world"  in  which  the  laws  of 
chemical  composition  should  not  embrace  the  principles  of 
definite  proportions,  Mr.  Whewell  appears  to  have  forgotten 
that  in  the  two  preceding  sentences  of  the  same  paragraph  he 
had  himself  placed  before  his  readers  a  distinct  account  of 
what  would  have  been  the  "  indefiniteness  and  confusion"  of 
a  world  in  which  this  law  did  not  obtain.  The  truth  seems 
to  be  that  these  laws  have  the  character  not  of  absolute,  but 
of  relative,  necessity ;  or,  in  other  words,  they  arc  necessary, 
not  in  themselves,  but  in  order  to  promote  the  greatest  amount 

*  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  v.  ii.  p.  132. 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS    TEACHER.  2II 

of  good  and  be  most  in  conformity  with  our  notions  of  an 
Infinitely-wise  and  perfect  Lawmaker;  and  it  is  in  the  fact 
we  can  conceive  of  other  laws  immeasurably  less  beneficial 
to  his  creatures  and  less  conformable  to  the  notions  of  per- 
fection which  we  assume  that  He  has  given  us, — in  this  fact 
we  find  evidence  that  the  existing  laws  have  been  selected,  and 
that  their  selection  implies  Wisdom  and  Goodness. 

We  cannot  dismiss  this  branch  of  the  subject  without  no- 
ticing the  refutation  which  is  given  by  these  laws  of  chemical 
affinity  to  the  notion  of  the  Eternity  and  Self-existent  nature 
of  matter.  Examined  by  these  laws,  each  particle  or  atom 
of  matter  is  found  to  possess  certain  specific  and  invariable 
properties  and  certain  definite  relations  to  atoms  having  other 
properties.  These  properties  and  relations  cannot  be  consid- 
ered without  suggesting  to  us  the  idea  of  an  Intelligent  Cause. 
Each  atom  in  nature  has  "  all  the  essential  characters,"  to  use 
the  happy  language  of  Sir  John  Herschel,  "  at  once  of  a 
manufactured  article  and  a  subordinate  agent."  And  so  if  we 
consider  the  action  of  chemical  forces  on  a  great  scale  in  nature, 
we  shall  find  that,  like  mechanical  forces,  they  point  distinctly 
back  to  a  beginning  of  the  present  system.  It  has  been  sug- 
gested by  some  philosophers  that  the  heat  observed  in  the 
interior  of  the  earth,  and  found  to  increase  as  we  descend  to- 
wards the  centre,  does  not  arise  out  of  an  originally  hot  con- 
dition from  which  the  globe  is  gradually  cooling,  but  results 
from  chemical  action  constantly  going  on  now  among  the 
materials  of  the  earth's  substance ;  and  this  conjecture,  feebly 
supported  as  it  is,  is  sometimes  employed  to  negative  the  idea 
that  the  past  can  have  differed  from  the  present,  or  that  any 
other  forces  than  those  now  in  operation  can  ever  have  been 
exerted  in  nature.  The  true  inference,  however,  as  has  been 
well  observed  by  another,*  would  be  precisely  the  reverse, 
"  for  chemical  forces,  as  well  as  mechanical,  tend  to  equilib- 

*  Whewell. 


212  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

rium,  and  that  condition  once  attained,  their  efficacy  ceases. 
Chemical  affinities  tend  to  form  new  compounds,  and  though, 
when  many  and  various  elements  are  mingled  together,  the 
play  of  synthesis  and  analysis  may  go  on  for  a  long  time,  it 
must  at  last  end.  If,  for  instance,  a  large  portion  of  the  earth's 
mass  were  originally  pure  potassium,  we  can  imagine  violent 
igneous  action  to  go  on  so  long  as  any  part  remained  unox- 
idized  ;  but  when  the  oxidation  of  the  whole  has  once  taken 
place,  this  action  must  be  at  an  end  ;  for  there  is  on  the  hy- 
pothesis no  agency  which  can  reproduce  the  deoxidized  metal. 
Thus,  a  perpetual  motion  is  impossible  in  chemistry,  as  it  is 
in  mechanics,  and  a  theory  of  constant  change,  continued 
through  infinite  time,  is  untenable  when  asserted  upon  chemi- 
cal, no  less  than  upon  mechanical,  principles." 

We  have  thus  looked  at  chemical  affinity,  and  indicated 
some  portions  of  the  religious  instruction  to  be  gathered 
from  its  nature  and  laws.  Let  us  now  consider  the  Mate- 
rials which  have  been  provided  for  this  force  to  act  upon, 
and  out  of  which,  in  conjunction  with  other  forces,  it  elabo- 
rates that  vast  variety  of  bodies  to  be  observed  in  animate 
and  inanimate  nature.  Let  it  be  remarked  here  that  we  are 
not  to  suppose  that  the  enjoyments  of  sensitive  beings,  or 
even  the  mental  and  moral  improvement  of  mankind,  forms 
the  only  object  of  this  wondrous  economy  in  the  midst  of 
which  we  dwell.  The  artist  sketches  from  nature,  or  he  em- 
bodies on  canvas  the  creations  of  his  fancy,  not  merely  to 
gratify  others  but  often  that  he  may  pour  forth  the  overflow- 
ing fulness  of  his  own  creative  energy  and  enjoy,  in  clearer 
and  more  vivid  contemplation,  his  own  conceptions.  May  it 
not  be  thus  with  the  Creator  of  the  Universe?  When  we 
consider  what  amazing  and  abounding  displays  of  the  Divine 
munificence  and  handiwork  are  hidden  in  the  dark  chambers 
of  the  sea,  or  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the  wilderness,  where 
the  eye  of  cultivated  man  never  rests,  we  must  feel  that  to 
promote  his  enjoyment  or  the  enjoyment  even  of  the  unnum 


CHEMISTRY  A    RELIGIOUS    TEACHER. 


213 


bered  orders  of  living  beings  that  throng  the  air  and  roam 
over  the  earth  and  swarm  in  all  waters,  is  not  the  only  object 
of  an  Infinite  Creator.  Yet,  doubtless,  it  is  one  great  object; 
and,  in  dwelling  upon  the  indications  of  provident  wisdom 
and  goodness  which  we  observe  in  the  chemical  constitution 
of  the  globe,  we  are  compelled,  for  the  time,  to  make  it  the 
chief  subject  of  our  contemplation.  It  ought  never  to  be  for- 
gotten, however,  that  "  these  are  but  parts  of  his  ways ;" 
that  it  is  not  for  man,  even  in  his  best  estate,  to  draw  aside  all 
that  veil  which  enshrouds  the  Creator's  universal  plans ;  that 
we  can  lift  but  one  corner,  as  it  were,  of  such  a  veil,  and  that 
while  we  may  safely  judge  of  the  use  and  import  of  the  parts 
exposed  to  view,  in  some  respects,  there  will  yet  remain  other 
and  perhaps  infinitely  higher  respects  in  which  even  their  uses 
will  be  hidden  from  our  sight. 

Organic  Chemistry. — In  attempting  to  show  how  the  Creator 
has  manifested  his  foresight  and  goodness  in  providing  the 
proper  materials  for  chemical  affinity  to  act  upon,  in  adjusting 
the  relative  quantities  of  these  materials,  and  in  so  locating 
them  that  beneficial  action  will  take  place  spontaneously,  or 
be  more  easily  compassed  by  man,  we  proceed  at  once  to  the 
subject  of  Organic  or  Vital  Chemistry,  and  to  the  interesting 
relations  which  subsist  between  animals,  vegetables,  and  unor- 
ganized substances. 

Every  animal  has  a  body,  composed  of  material  parts  and 
organs,  by  means  of  which  life  is  maintained  and  a  relation  is 
established  between  such  animal  and  the  external  world.  In 
other  words,  he  has  organs  of  nutrition  and  assimilation  essen- 
tial to  life,  and  organs  of  sensation  and  motion,  without  which 
external  objects  could  not  act  upon  him,  nor  he  upon  them. 
The  entire  body  of  the  animal  is  built  up  out  of  substances 
which  it  receives  as  food,  and  which  must  be  of  such  a  nature 
that  they  can  furnish  the  requisite  material  for  all  the  different 
parts  and  tissues,  such  as  bone,  cartilage,  sinew,  teeth,  skin, 
hair,  flesh,  etc.      No    food    answers    this   description    unles.s 


214 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


it  be  an  organized  substance  that  once  had  h'fe.  Unorganized 
substances,  such  as  carbon,  hydrogen,  or  nitrogen,  can  furnish 
directly  no  nutriment  to  animals.  On  the  contrary,  when  taken 
into  their  systems,  in  an  elementary  state,  these  substances 
would  cither  be  expelled  as  enemies  or  would  be  retained  only 
as  a  clog  that  paralyzes  vigor  and  is  likely  to  accelerate  decay 
and  death.  Vegetables,  or  the  flesh  of  other  animals,  must 
constitute  the  aliment  of  all  animals ;  and  where  this  aliment 
is  flesh,  it  will  be  found,  by  tracing  it  back  to  its  source,  that 
it  was  originally  formed  out  of  vegetables;  so  that  the  vege- 
table world  becomes  the  great  laboratory  in  which  food  is 
prepared  for  the  subsistence  of  the  countless  myriads  that 
swim,  or  creep,  or  run,  or  fly. 

But  whence  do  vegetables  derive  their  nourishment  ?  They, 
too,  live  and  grow,  rising  from  the  small  seed  buried  in  the 
earth  till  they  become  a  tree,  a  shrub,  or  plant.  Ev^en  after 
they  attain  the  fulness  of  their  growth  they  still  need  aliment 
to  repair  a  waste  continually  going  on.  Whence,  then,  can 
vegetables  derive  the  material  for  building  up  their  super- 
structure but  from  the  inorganic  world  mainly, — from  the 
earth,  air,  and  water  ?  Unorganized  substances  afford  food 
for  vegetables ;  vegetables  supply  food  for  animals.  The 
body  of  an  animal,  if  decomposed,  will  be  found  to  consist 
of  various  simple  bodies,  or  elementary  substances,  combined 
in  certain  proportions.  But  there  is  no  assimilating  power  in 
the  animal  itself  equal  to  the  task  of  achieving  such  a  trans- 
formation as  those  simple  bodies  must  undergo  before  they 
can  become  flesh.  The  mysterious  but  all-subduing  power  of 
vegetable  chemistry  must  be  applied  to  them  in  the  first  in- 
stance. By  its  agency  they  are  made  to  approximate  the 
character  and  condition  of  animal  substances,  and  then  the 
simpler  and  less  powerful  action  of  aniinal  cJiemistry  is  super- 
added, in  order  to  complete  the  transformation. 

No  artificial  combination  of  those  simple  bodies,  however 
exactly  it  may  imitate  those  elaborated  by  the  process  of  vege- 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS   TEACHER.  215 

tation,  can  be  rendered  nutritious.  Vegetables,  therefore,  stand 
between  animals  and  unorganized  substances  as  a  sort  of 
kitchen  in  which  the  latter  are  prepared — as  it  were,  cooked — 
for  the  consumption  of  the  former.  After  being  thus  manu- 
factured or  cooked,  they  take  the  name  of  proximate  as  dis- 
tinguished from  simple  elements ;  and  when  considered  as 
food  for  animals  are  divided  by  Liebig  into  two  kinds, — the 
first,  called  plastic  elements  of  tiutrition  ;  the  second,  elements  of 
respiration.  The  first  class,  comprising  such  substances  as  vege- 
table albumen,  fibrin,  and  casein,  seems  to  be  employed  in  the 
repair  and  nourishment  of  the  body.  The  second  class,  in- 
cluding, for  instance,  starch,  gum,  sugar,  mucilage,  etc.,  as  they 
exist  in  plants,  constitutes  what  the  distinguished  chemist  just 
named  has  happily  denominated  fuel-food.  We  say  happily 
denominated,  for,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  these  substances 
do  seem  to  be  actually  burned  in  the  body  of  the  animal,  in 
the  capillary  blood-vessels  throughout  the  whole  system. 
Being  first  converted  into  a  part  of  that  body, — incorporated 
with  it, — they  are  then  slowly  consumed  or  burned,  in  order 
to  furnish  that  promethean  heat  which,  in  one  sense,  sets  in 
motion  the  whole  machinery  of  life.  We  speak  here  advisedly. 
To  borrow  the  words  of  another,*  "  it  is  with  premeditation 
and  choice  of  terms  that  the  capillary  system  is  termed  a  fire- 
place or  furnace. 

"  Carbon  and  hydrogen  are  burned  in  the  blood,  and  this  to 
an  extent  which  will  strike  with  surprise,  and  at  first  incredu- 
lity, those  unaccustomed  to  such  considerations.  Many  ounces 
of  carbon  are,  in  every  individual,  daily  rejected  from  the 
lungs  as  carbonic  acid.  It  is'  impossible  that  combustible 
matter  can  thus  be  disposed  of  without  the  evolution  of  a  vast 
amount  of  heat,  —  as  much  heat,  in  fact,  as  if  it  had  been 
burned  in  a  fire-grate.  This  heat  is  manifest  in  the  elevation 
of  temperature  which  the  animal  frame  always  possesses  above 

*  Fownes's  Prize  Essay,  p.  105. 


2i6  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

that  of  the  surrounding  medium, — an  elevation  of  tempera- 
ture always  in  direct  proportion  to  the  amount  of  nervous 
and  muscular  energy  of  the  animal,  and  to  the  vigor  of  its 
respiration,  but  never  in  any  single  case  altogether  absent." 

"  The  internal  capillary  combustion  is  the  source  of  animal 
heat. 

"  Thus  much  for  the  body.  Everywhere  that  blood-vessels 
are  to  be  found,  every  part  where  nervous  influence  is  per- 
ceptible, every  organ,  every  tissue,  muscle,  and  brain,  and 
nerve,  and  membrane  waste  away  like  a  burning  taper,  con- 
sume to  air  and  ashes,  and  pass  from  the  system,  rejected  and 
useless  ;  and  where  no  means  are  at  hand  for  repairing  these 
daily  and  hourly  losses,  the  individual  perishes,  —  dies  more 
slowly,  but  not  less  surely,  than  by  a  blazing  pile.  He  is,  to 
the  very  letter,  burned  to  death  at  a  low  temperature ;  the 
various  constituents  of  the  body  give  way  in  succession : 
first,  the  fat  disappears  (that  is  the  most  combustible,  but  at 
the  same  time  the  least  essential),  —  it  is  sacrificed;  then  the 
muscles  shrink  and  soften  and  decay.  At  last,  the  substance 
of  the  brain  becomes  attacked,  and  madness  and  death  close 
the  scene.     This  is  starvation." 

The  provisions  which  the  Creator  has  made  for  maintaining 
an  equilibrium  between  the  organic  and  inorganic  worlds 
should  be  considered  here.  Animals  subsist  on  vegetables ; 
vegetables  on  inorganic  matter,  especially  on  gaseous  matters 
in  the  air,  prepared  for  their  consumption  by  the  action  of 
solar  light  and  heat,*  and  received  generally  through  the  root 
mixed  with  water.  Now,  if  there  were  no  provision  for  re- 
storing the  matters  thus  abstracted  from  the  air  and  eartli,  it 
is  plain  that  these  inorganic  materials  would  ultimately  be 
exhausted.  But,  in  the  process  just  described,  we  have  seen 
that  the  animal  combustion  which  supplies  vital  heat,  and,  in 
some  measure,  at  least,  nervous  activity  and  force,  disengages, 

*  Fownes's  Essay. 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS   TEACHER. 


217 


like  all  other  combustion,  inorganic  constituents,  which  thus 
return  to  the  air  and  soil  to  recommence  their  labor  in  build- 
ing up  living  vegetable  structures.  The  carbonic  acid  gas 
expelled  from  the  lungs  at  each  expiration  is  precisely  like 
that  which  ascends  from  fuel  blazing  in  a  grate  or  stove ;  and 
animal  manures,  according  to  Liebig,  are  but  the  ashes  of  the 
food  produced  at  first  in  our  fields,  and  then  burned  in  the 
bodies  of  men  and  animals.  In  this  way  matter,  which  is 
constantly  withdrawn  from  the  inorganic  world  to  serve  as 
food,  having  fulfilled  its  appointed  task,  is  sent  back  to  that 
world,  and  thus  keeps  up  one  constant  round  in  the  service 
of  men  and  animals.  If  vegetables  produce  neutral  azotized 
substances,  such  as  albumen  and  fibrin,  animals  consume  or 
decompose  them.  If  the  vegetable  manufactures  sugar,  starch, 
and  gum  out  of  oxygen,  hydrogen,  and  carbon,  the  animal 
decomposes  the  manufactured  article,  and  it  goes  back  as 
oxygen,  hydrogen,  and  carbon  to  the  place  whence  it  came. 
If  both  water  and  carbonic  acid  are  decomposed  by  the  vege- 
table, both  are  produced  again  by  the  animal.  The  vegetable, 
to  borrow  the  language  of  the  French  chemist,  is  "  an  appa- 
ratus of  reduction ;"  the  animal  is  an  apparatus  of  oxidation 
or  combustion.  What  the  one  takes  away  from  the  inorganic 
world  the  other  gives  back. 

Let  us  now  direct  our  attention  to  the  first  term  of  this  ever- 
recurring  series.  We  have  seen  that  inorganic  nature,  more 
especially  the  air  when  acted  upon  by  the  sun,  is  the  great 
primary  source  of  nutriment,  even  for  animals, — vegetables 
being  the  chemists  or  cooks  that  reduce  this  nutriment  to  a 
proper  state  for  animal  consumption.  Do  we  find,  then,  in 
the  constitution  of  dead  matter,  or,  in  other  words,  of  inor- 
ganic substances,  in  their  properties  or  in  the  proportions  in 
which  they  exist,  any  evidence  of  Divine  forecast  and  wis- 
dom ? — any  marks  of  an  admirable  Providence,  such  as  the 
Bible  ascribes  to  Him  who  heareth  young  ravens  when  they 
cry,  and  giveth  meat  even  to  famishing  beasts  of  prey  ?   This 


2i8  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

question  wc  can  answer  with  more  precision  when  we  have 
specified  what  is  the  primary  food  for  animals  ;  or,  in  other 
words,  what  simple  substances  enter  into  the  composition  of 
animal  bodies,  and  what  provisions  exist  in  the  air  and  earth 
for  supplying  them.  Besides  its  four  main  elements, — oxygen, 
hydrogen,  carbon,  and  nitrogen,  —  the  body  of  ev^ery  animal 
contains,  also,  in  much  smaller  proportions,  soda,  potash,  lime, 
phosphorus,  iron,  and  sulphur.  Soda,  according  to  Liebig, 
exists  largely  in  the  bile  and  blood;  potash  in  the  muscles; 
iron  and  sulphur  in  the  blood  ;  lime,  both  as  a  carbonate  and 
a  phosphate,  in  the  bones  and  teeth.  Is  it  not,  then,  most  in- 
teresting, as  well  as  most  indicative  of  God's  parental  fore- 
sight, to  find  that  all  these  substances  are  provided  not  only 
so,  but  are  stored  up  in  such  places  and  in  such  proportions 
as  are  best  calculated  to  meet  the  necessities  of  animals  ?  It 
is  like  the  accumulation  of  stores  of  provisions  at  different 
points  over  a  great  extent  of  country,  which  a  wise  general 
makes  on  the  eve  of  a  campaign, — with  this  difference,  that 
where  the  army  supplies,  in  respect  to  any  article,  are  defi- 
cient, the  consumption  of  the  men  must  be  restricted.  Whereas, 
in  the  great  commissariat  system  of  the  Creator,  any  apparent 
deficiency  in  supply  is  made  up  usually  by  the  rapidity  with 
which  the  article  is  brought  in.  It  is  in  this  particular  like 
the  economy  of  a  commander-in-chief,  who  should  employ  his 
men  in  raising  by  tillage  a  portion  of  the  food  they  need;  or, 
it  is  like  circulating  coin,  where  the  same  piece  becomes  the 
agent  of  effecting  a  great  many  different  exchanges. 

Take  carbonaceous  matter,  for  example.  Every  well-fed, 
healthy  man  employed  in  labor  consumes  about  fourteen  ounces 
of  carbon  daily ;  so  that  the  whole  amount  consumed  daily  over 
the  surface  of  the  earth  by  men  and  animals  must  be  enormous. 
But  all,  or  nearly  all  this  carbon  being  burned  in  the  blood, 
goes  back  as  carbonic  acid  into  the  air  ;  and  there,  if  it  were 
allowed  to  accumulate,  the  baleful  gas  would  soon  destroy  the 
life  which,  as  carbon,  it  has  previously  cherished.     But  that 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS   TEACHER.  219 

which  is  deadly  to  animals  is  the  appointed  aliment  of  vege- 
tables. As  fast  as  carbonic  acid  gas  is  given  off  from  the 
lungs  of  the  one  its  carbon  is  taken  up  by  the  leaves  of  the 
other;  and  thus  the  normal  proportion  of  this  irrespirable  gas 
in  the  atmosphere  is  never  but  about  one-two-thousandth  part 
of  the  whole,  which  is  perfectly  harmless,  and  at  the  same 
time  its  agency  as  aliment  for  plants  and  animals  is  perfectly 
secured. 

In  the  air  and  in  water  are  abundant  magazines  for  supplying 
oxygen,  nitrogen,  and  hydrogen ;  and,  did  our  space  permit, 
it  would  be  instructive  to  trace  the  provisions  which  have  been 
made  for  replacing  such  portions  of  them  as  are  withdrawn 
to  sustain  animal  and  vegetable  life.  Omitting  this,  however, 
we  proceed  to  inquire  whence  the  animal  frame  derives  its 
alkaline  and  earthy  constituents, — its  soda  for  the  blood  and 
its  lime  for  the  bones.  They  come  immediately,  of  course, 
from  the  vegetables,  which  are  taken  into  the  system  as  food, 
and  which  contain  more  or  less  of  soda,  lime,  potash,  sulphur, 
and  iron.  Here,  again,  is  evidence  of  prospective  and  far- 
seeing  arrangements.  Iron,  sulphur,  and  lime  exist  in  small 
portions  in  almost  every  soil,  and  are  taken  up  from  it.  The 
soil  itself — i.e.  the  earth's  upper  covering — is  made  up  mainly 
of  sand,  clay,  and  calcareous  matter,  which  have  been  ground 
down,  by  the  action  of  water,  from  those  great  mountain- 
chains  which  ridge  and  furrow  the  surface  of  the  globe. 
These  mountain-chains  consist  principally  of  granite ;  and  in 
this  granite  we  find,  besides  the  sand  and  ordinary  clay,  that 
potash  and  phosphoric  acid  which  are  important  constituents 
in  bone  and  muscle,  so  that,  to  use  the  language  of  another, 
"  every  earthquake  which  has  in  bygone  times  fractured  and 
dislocated  the  solid  strata  of  our  planet;  every  flood  which 
has  swept  over  the  ancient  continents ;  every  change  of  level 
which  has  elevated  the  bed  of  ocean,  or  depressed  the  land 
beneath  its  surface,  has  contributed  more  or  less  to  bring  about 
that   mixture   of  materials   that  now  form   the    fruit-bearing 


220  ^^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

soil, — the  inexhaustible  source  of  prosperity  and  strength. 
Is  it  too  much  to  infer  that  all  these  things  had  reference  to 
that  future  condition  of  the  earth  when  it  should  become  the 
habitation  of  beings  capable  of  appreciating  the  wonders 
around  them,  and  deriving  mental  support  and  guidance  from 
the  contemplation  of  these  wonderful  provisions  while  enjoy- 
ing with  thankfulness  the  physical  comforts  to  which  they 
give  rise?" 

Another  point  in  the  provisions  which  have  been  made  for 
the  sustenance  and  nutrition  of  animals,  is  not  "unworthy  of 
notice.  Unlike  other  animals,  man  is  framed  to  dwell  in  every 
part  of  the  earth, — amid  the  snows  of  Lapland  and  the  eter- 
nal ice  of  the  Polar  circle,  as  well  as  beneath  the  intense  heat 
of  torrid  climes.  He  is  also  obliged,  in  many  cases,  to  un- 
dergo great  vicissitudes  of  heat  and  cold,  moisture  and  dry- 
ness, labor  and  repose.  Now,  in  very  cold  climates,  the  dif- 
ference between  the  temperature  of  the  air  and  that  of  the 
animal  frame  is  so  great,  and  warmth  is  so  rapidly  abstracted 
from  the  latter  by  the  former,  that  much  more  vital  heat  must 
be  generated  within,  in  order  to  maintain  the  normal  state  of 
the  body,  than  would  be  necessary  in  warmer  latitudes.  In 
other  words,  either  the  furnace  grate  must  be  supplied  with 
more  fuel,  or  a  fuel  that  evolves  more  caloric  must  be  substi- 
tuted.    And  how  is  this  emergency  provided  for  ? 

In  a  manner  which  ought  to  impress  the  most  thoughtless. 
In  tropical  climates,  where  there  is  little  disparity  between  the 
temperature  of  the  air  and  that  of  the  body,  and  where  the 
luxuriance  of  vegetation  supersedes  the  necessity  of  a  labori- 
ous tillage,  men  want  little  fuel-food,  and  but  little  is  provided. 
The  rice  and  fruits  which  grow  in  such  profusion  in  these  cli- 
mates contain,  besides  water  in  a  free  state,  only  oxygen  and 
hydrogen  in  the  proportions  to  form  water ;  and  they  are 
bodies  that  yield,  when  burnt  in  the  blood,  comparatively  little 
heat.  On  the  contrary,  in  the  Arctic  and  Antarctic  regions, 
and  generally  where  the  cold  is  severe,  man  is  furnished  with 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS   TEACHER.  221 

an  abundance  of  animal  flesh  and  fat, — substances  that  con- 
tain a  great  proportion  of  carbon  as  well  as  hydrogen ;  and 
being  oxidized,  these  yield  copious  supplies  of  heat  to  re- 
place that  which  constantly  escapes  from  the  body.  At  the 
same  time,  in  order  to  provide  a  sufficient  amount  of  oxygen 
to  consume  this  fuel-food,  the  atmosphere,  in  such  regions, 
is  more  dense  ;  and  the  individual,  being  compelled  to  win  his 
subsistence  by  means  of  severe  muscular  effort,  his  inspira- 
tions are  also  deeper  and  more  frequent.  We  all  know  how 
much  labor  and  cold  weather  contribute  to  sharpen  our  ap- 
petites, and  we  may  have  observed,  too,  that  it  is  on  the  return 
of  winter  that  game  is  most  abundant  and  best  supplied  with  fat. 
Look,  again,  at  the  nutriment  everywhere  provided  by  a 
Beneficent  Creator  for  the  young  of  the  higher  order  of  ani- 
mals. No  sooner  does  the  parent  conceive  than  a  mysterious 
change  takes  place  in  the  secretions  of  her  frame,  one  conse- 
quence of  which  is  the  formation  of  a  liquid  called  milk,  that  is 
found  to  be  precisely  adapted  to  the  desires  and  wants  of  her 
progeny  after  birth.  The  leading  constituent  in  this  liquid  is 
a  substance  (casein)  almost  identical,  in  composition,  with 
muscular  fibre  and  with  the  albumen  of  the  blood.  Hence  but 
the  simplest  change  is  necessary  in  order  to  transform  it  into 
the  flesh  of  the  young  and  helpless  animal.  Milk,  also,  con- 
tains a  large  proportion  of  earthy  phosphates,  in  the  very  state 
of  solution  that  most  facilitates  the  formation  of  bone, — a 
process  all-important  at  this  period.  It  contains,  in  addition, 
liberal  quantities  of  butter  and  sugar  of  milk,  which  answer 
the  purpose  of  elements  of  respiration,  the  breathing  of  chil- 
dren being,  as  we  all  know,  very  rapid,  and  the  combustion 
that  takes  place  in  their  blood  proportionably  energetic.  To 
crown  this  list  of  adaptations,  and  show  that  in  the  secretion 
of  this  liquid  no  ingredient  which  could  promote  the  nourish- 
ment and  well-being  of  the  young  animal  has  been  omitted, 
chemists  have  also  found  that  it  contains  saline  matters,  and 
a  slight  proportion  of  iron. 


222  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Nor  is  this  provision  for  the  nourishment  and  growth  of  the 
young  to  be  observed  only  in  the  higher  classes  of  organized 
hfe.  It  is  found  wherever  infant  hfe  exists,  and  it  comprises  the 
period  that  precedes,  as  well  as  that  wliich  follows,  birth. 
Take  the  seed  of  a  plant,  for  example  ;  it  is,  in  fact,  its  off- 
spring in  the  foetal  state,  or  that  state  which  precedes  birth ; 
it  is  the  germ  of  a  new  plant,  inclosed  in  nutritious  matter  on 
which  that  germ  subsists  and  grows,  until  its  organism  is  de- 
veloped and  the  matter  is  consumed ;  and  then  it  bursts  forth, 
the  radicle  to  seek  fresh  nourishment  in  the  earth,  the  seed- 
leaves  to  push  upward  and  gain  stimulus  and  aliment  from  the 
air  and  light.  It  is  the  same  with  the  &^^  of  the  oviparous 
tribes,  and  with  the  ovum  of  the  higher  orders  of  animals. 
The  ovum  is  either  surrounded  by  nutritious  substances  which 
are  gradually  assimilated  as  soon  as  its  energies  are  roused 
into  action,  or  it  has  the  power  of  abstracting  aliment  from 
the  body  of  the  parent.  How  beautiful  and  touching  this 
provident  care, — this  solicitude  for  the  preservation  and  nour- 
ishment of  every  living  thing !  "  Doth  God  take  care  for 
oxen?"  said  Paul,  when  alluding  to  that  benevolent  provision 
of  the  Mosaic  law  which  forbade  the  muzzling  of  animals 
that  were  treading  out  corn.  All  nature  seems  to  resound 
with  an  affirmative  answer.  Not  only  does  He  watch  over 
the  sustenance  of  the  toiling  beast,  as  over  that  of  the  labor- 
ing man ;  not  only  does  He  cause  the  earth  to  teem  with 
abundance  for  animals  that  roam  abroad  in  unrestricted  free- 
dom,— He  cares  for  the  young  lion,  for  the  helpless  little  ones 
of  every  tribe,  for  the  yet  imprisoned  tenants  of  the  womb, 
for  the  seed  that  falls  to  the  earth  or  floats  on  thistle-down 
through  the  air.  Nay,  in  respect  to  the  seed  of  plants.  He 
evinces  yet  more  of  this  far-reaching  and  parental  providence. 
For  months  before  the  seed  forms  a7id  lipens  processes  are  on 
foot  to  facilitate  and  secure  that  event;  and  these  processes 
have  been  recurring  constantly  and  regularly,  from  the  first 
day  that  "  the  earth  brought  forth  grass  and  herb  yielding  seed 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS   TEACHER. 


223 


after  his  kind,  and  the  tree  yielding  fruit,  whose  seed  was  in 
itself  after  his  kind."  The  process  of  seed-bearing,  as  well 
as  that  of  efflorescence,  which  precedes  it,  is  exhausting  to  a 
plant.  None  of  the  parts  or  organs  employed  in  these  opera- 
tions contribute  like  leaves  to  the  nutrition  of  the  plant;  and 
at  the  same  time  soluble  gums  and  saccharine  matters  are 
withdrawn  from  its  whole  system,  in  order  to  form  the  fruit 
and  seeds.  How  admirable  here,  also,  the  provision  which  has 
been  made  to  secure  the  desired  end,  and  yet  diminish  the  evils 
of  this  exhausting  process  !  The  time  which  precedes  flow- 
ering, when  the  vegetating  power  is  most  active,  seems  to  be 
diligently  employed  in  treasuring  up,  in  different  parts  of  the 
plant,  a  quantity  of  starch  "  ready  for  use  when  the  pressing 
occasion  arrives."  It  is  then  redissolved  and  added  to  the 
general  stock  of  nutriment.  There  is  reason  to  apprehend 
that,  but  for  this  beneficent  arrangement,  the  ripening  of  seeds 
could  hardly  take  place.  As  it  is,  the  important  process  is 
no  sooner  over  than  the  plant  exhibits  every  sign  of  ex- 
haustion, and  often  dies. 

We  have  thus  touched  upon  a  {e.\M  of  the  ways  in  which 
God  has  exerted  his  marvellous  wisdom  and  kindness  in  pro- 
viding the  raw  materials  out  of  which  Chemical  Affinity,  in 
conjunction  with  another  force  to  be  discussed  hereafter,  elab- 
orates the  substance  and  phenomena  of  organized  bodies, 
whether  vegetable  or  animal.  But,  in  addition  to  the  simple 
substances  that  enter  into  the  composition  of  plants  or  ani- 
mals, there  are  others  which,  though  not  employed  in  this 
way,  are  yet  useful  to  man  in  the  various  arts  of  life.  Some 
of  them,  however,  are  intensely  poisonous,  and  it  is  a  subject 
for  grateful  consideration  that,  in  such  cases,  these  substances 
have  either  been  so  masked,  by  mixture  with  other  substances, 
as  to  be  generally  harmless,  except  where  there  is  the  requi- 
site knowledge  to  isolate  and  use  them  properly ;  or  else  they 
have  been  so  sparingly  provided  that  they  are  not  likely  to 
prove  injurious.     What  woes,  for  example,  would   not  have 


224 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


been  occasioned  if  opium,  instead  of  being  extracted  only  by 
means  of  great  labor  and  skill  from  the  poppy,  had  grown 
abundantly  on  trees  like  apples  ?  What  would  have  been  the 
effect  had  the  oxide  of  lead  and  of  copper  been  as  common  as 
that  of  iron?  The  latter,  in  small  quantities,  is  not  only  harm- 
less, but,  as  we  have  seen,  is  a  constituent  of  the  animal  frame, 
while  in  the  operations  of  industry  it  is,  of  all  materials,  per- 
haps, the  most  indispensable.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mi- 
nutest portions  of  lead  absorbed  into  the  system  from  day  to 
day,  lead  at  length  to  disastrous  results.  So  with  carbonate 
of  lime,  as  compared  with  carbonate  of  baryta.  Flad  the  lat- 
ter been  as  prevalent  as  the  former,  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
animals  could  have  existed  on  the  earth. 

It  is,  also,  worthy  of  remark,  that  where  dangerous  sub- 
stances are  constantly  necessary  in  order  to  maintain  the 
economy  of  life,  they  are  almost  always  laid  under  bonds  for 
their  good  behavior  by  being  united  with  other  substances, 
which  neutralize  or  mitigate  their  destroying  power.  How 
wonderful  that  the  air  we  breathe,  the  water  from  which  we 
derive  so  much  of  refreshment  and  essential  service,  should 
each  be  made  up  of  elements  that,  in  a  separate  state,  are  fatal 
to  life!  Oxygen,  for  example,  if  respired  alone,  is  an  over- 
powering stimulant,  and  an  animal  would  quickly  burn  to 
death  or  be  prostrated  by  asphyxia  under  its  crushing  influ- 
ence. Hydrogen  is  highly  inflammable,  and,  if  spread  in  a 
free  state  throughout  nature,  it  would  frequently  explode  with 
the  disastrous  violence  now  experienced  only  in  the  depths  of 
mines.  Nitrogen,  which  constitutes  four-fifths  of  common  air, 
cannot  be  breathed  with  impunity  by  any  animal  in  its  pure 
state.  So  of  most  of  the  elementary  principles.  If  liberated 
from  their  affinities  and  "  sent  abroad  into  the  world,  like  so 
many  demons  let  loose,  they  would  instantly  bring  destruc- 
tion upon  the  whole  fabric."*     With  what  matchless   skill, 

*  Dr.  Prout. 


CHEMISTRY  A   RELIGIOUS    TEACHER. 


225 


with  what  parental  care  have  they  been  mingled  and  com- 
bined so  as  not  only  to  mutually  tame  their  fierceness  and 
disarm  them  of  their  destructive  energy,  but  even  to  trans- 
form them  into  the  most  beneficent  ministers  of  health  and 
life !  Is  it  said  that  the  Creator  might  have  displayed  his 
wisdom  still  more  illustriously  if  these  elements  had  been 
constituted  without  such  noxious  properties  ?  We  answer, 
that  we  shall  not  deny  that  they  might  have  been  so  consti- 
tuted, though  to  affirm  it  seems  arrogating  a  wisdom  not 
vouchsafed  to  man.  But  we  may  say  that  if  these  elements 
had  been  created  innocuous,  men  would  have  wanted  most 
impressive  mementos,  which  they  now  have,  of  their  own 
feebleness  and  insufficiency.  We  are  now  reminded,  when- 
ever we  look  at  the  chemical  constitution  of  nature,  that  we 
are  encompassed  by  destroying  angels  ;  that  there  are  volcanic 
fires  all  around  as  well  as  beneath  us ;  that  Infinite  Wisdom, 
Power,  and  Goodness  must  have  been  needful  to  rear  a  peace- 
ful abode  for  man  out  of  such  stormy  elements,  and  are  still 
needed  to  preserve  it ;  and  that  our  gratitude  should  be  pro- 
portioned to  our  dependence.  Did  no  fierce  agent  ever  mani- 
fest itself,  no  poisonous  exhalation  ever  break  forth  to  show 
how  all  man's  powers  and  thoughts  can  wither  beneath  its 
blighting  touch,  we  should  feel  that  this  physical  system  was 
eternal ;  that  it  contains  within  itself  a  guarantee  for  its  sta- 
bility and  perfection,  and  that  no  grateful  thoughts  nor  earnest 
supplications  need  ascend  to  our  Invisible  Father  and  Pro- 
tector. We  have  now  almost  daily  mementos  of  our  frailty, — 
daily  remembrances  of  the  marvellous  wisdom  and  power 
.with  which,  as  if  before  our  eyes,  God  is  condescending  to 
marshal  and  order  these  fiery  elements,  and  how  easy  it  would 
be  for  Him  who  holdeth  the  winds  in  his  power  to  let 
loose  such  elements  to  destroy  individuals,  nations,  or  even  a 
world. 

One  can  hardly  help  trembling  when  he  considers  on  what 
an  infinite  number  and  variety  of  chemical    adjustments  the 

15 


226  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

welfare  and  existence  of  living  beings  depend, — adjustments 
between  agents  which  are  essentially  distinct  from,  and  inde- 
pendent of,  each  other,  and  whose  mutual  adaptation  and  con- 
gruity  can  be  referred,  therefore,  to  nothing  but  design.  To 
appreciate,  even  in  the  slightest  degree,  the  inexpressible  im- 
portance of  these  adjustments  and  the  Divine  wisdom  and 
goodness  they  manifest,  take  but  one  of  them ;  as,  for  exam- 
ple, the  relation  in  nature  between  oxygen  and  hydrogen,  both 
as  to  quantity  and  quality,  and  suppose  that  the  relative  pro- 
portions in  which  these  bodies  subsist  in  nature  were  reversed, 
and  that  hydrogen  became  as  predominant  as  oxygen  now  is, 
or  suppose  that  either  underwent  a  material  change  of  prop- 
erties, the  quantity  remaining  the  same.  By  reflecting,  though 
for  only  a  moment,  on  the  consequences  which  would  ensue, 
we  shall  find  that  disorder  would  be  instantly  spread  through- 
out the  material  universe.  Water,  the  air,  the  earth,  metals, 
would  all  lose  their  peculiar  value.  The  means  of  vegetation 
and  of  healthy  respiration  would  be  withdrawn.  And  so  with 
a  change  in  any  of  the  leading  adaptations  that  we  observe 
by  the  aid  of  organic  or  inorganic  chemistry.  Everywhere 
we  observe  traces  of  a  parental  foresight  which  would  make 
all  things  subservient  to  the  welfare  and  enjoyment  of  sensi- 
tive creatures.  Elements  seem  to  have  been  constituted  with 
reference  to  the  most  important  compounds  they  were  to  form, 
such  as  Avater,  air,  and  the  like.  These  compounds,  again, 
seem  to  have  had  antecedent  reference  to  the  plants  and  ani- 
mals which  were  to  appear  in  due  time  and  to  derive  their 
sustenance  from  them  ;  and  thus  all  seem  to  form  parts  of  one 
grand  design  that  stretches  from  the  beginning  to  the  disso- 
lution of  the  great  globe  on  which  we  dwell.  All  are  parts 
in  the  all-comprehending  and  eventful  physical  drama  now  in 
progress, — a  drama,  every  stage  of  which  seems  to  afford 
evidence  that  it  had  its  commencement  in  time,  and  that  in 
time  it  is  destined  to  have,  in  one  sense,  its  end. 

We  say  in  one  sense;  for  in  another  Chemistry  seems  to  be 


CHEMISTRY  A    RELIGIOUS   TEACHER. 


227 


the  herald  even  of  a  physical,  and,  much  more,  of  a  mental, 
existence,  that  is  to  be  eternal.  Under  the  influence  of  affinity, 
chemical  elements  are  constantly  changing  their  relations,  but 
their  existence  7'einaiiis  nntojicJied.  Bodies  decompose.  If  liv- 
ing, they  die ;  new  bodies  start  up  before  us.  But  the  simple 
substances  of  which  these  bodies  are  formed  do  not  perish, — 
of  them  there  is  no  new  creation.  Their  quantities  and  quali- 
ties remain  unchanged  ;  and  hence,  though  the  day  come  when 
the  elements  melt  with  fervent  heat  and  the  earth  and  all  that 
is  therein  shall  be  burnt  up,  even  that  shall  not  necessarily  be 
annihilation  of  matter,  much  less  of  soul.  Weigh  the  vapor, 
the  carbonic  acid,  and  other  gases,  and  the  unconsumed  par- 
ticles of  fuel  that  escape  from  yonder  grate  while  it  burns  five 
pounds  of  coal,  and  you  find  that  their  weight,  added  to  that 
of  the  ashes  left  behind,  will  be  just  equal  to  the  weight  of  the 
fuel  burned.  Nothing  is  destroyed ;  old  ties  are  broken,  but 
new  ones  are  formed  ;  your  fuel  disappears,  but  it  gives  out  a 
gas  which  falls  on  the  leaves  and  roots  of  plants,  and  becomes 
to  them  the  very  breath  of  life.  The  living  plant  comes  forth 
from  the  decaying  consuming  wood  ;  and  thus  may  a  spiritual 
body  come  forth  from  the  slumbering  ashes  of  the  terrestrial 
one,  and  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth  be  formed  from  the 
elements  that  may  remain  after  the  conflagration  of  that  ma- 
terial system  in  which  we  now  dwell. 

And  if  even  matter  may  be  immortal,  what  shall  we  say  of 
the  soul?  Simple  material  substances,  so  far  as  chemists  can 
discover,  never  perish.  May  not  that  immaterial  substance 
within,  of  which  we  cannot  conceive,  except  as  simple  and 
indivisible, — may  that  not  hope  for  as  high  a  destiny?  Death 
dissolves  the  organism,  but  not  one  of  its  minutest  or  meanest 
particles  does  it  destroy.  Shall  we  fear,  then,  that  it  can 
destroy  the  soul  ?  We  can  see  matter  bid  defiance  to  the 
power  of  the  King  of  Terrors ;  the  soul  we  can  never  see, — 
least  of  all  when  it  has  cast  off  all  the  gross  organs  through 
which  it  once  made  itself  known  to  us ;  but  can  we  doubt  that 


228  TH^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

its  power  of  withstanding  the  assaults  of  its  last  and  most 
inexorable  enemy  are  at  least  as  great  as  that  of  the  material 
particles  with  which  it  has  so  long  been  clogged?  When 
death  lays  the  body  low,  its  component  parts  have  other  offices 
to  perform, — other  spheres  to  fill ;  and,  though  you  retard, 
nothing  shall  finally  arrest  their  appointed  course.  And  may 
not  the  soul,  too,  expect  to  enter  on  other  scenes  and  engage 
in  other  employments  ?  When  we  examine  matter  by  the 
light  of  Chemistry,  it  seems  plainly  made  for  a  round  of  dif- 
ferent affinities  and  combinations.  When  we  examine  mind, 
it  seems  not  less  plainly  to  be  made  for  progress, — for  direct 
and  illimitable  advancement  in  knowledge  and  in  virtue. 
Matter,  we  know,  fulfils  its  end.  Is  it  likely  that  mind  alone 
shall  fail  of  its  higher  and  nobler  destiny  ? 


BOOK  II. 

ORGANIC    NATURE. 

PHYSIOLOGY,  ZOOLOGY,  GEOLOGY,  AND  BOTANY. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE  LIFE-POWER  WITNESSING  TO  THE  DIVINE  EXISTENCE. 

WE  have  already  endeavored  to  show  that  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  Physical  Science,  as  unfolded  by 
Mechanics  and  by  Chemistry,  illustrate  the  Divine  Existence 
and  perfections.  We  shall  now  attempt  to  perform  the  same 
office  for  the  more  central  principles  of  Physiology  and  the 
related  Sciences. 

Life,  then,  we  propose  to  show,  wherever  we  meet  it,  whether 
in  plant  or  animal,  points  with  clearness  to  a  great  First 
Cause, — to  a  living,  spiritual,  and  mighty  Creator. 

In  this  chapter  we  shall  confine  ourselves  to  certain  prelim- 
inary views. 

Life  points  to  a  First  Cause,  because  here,  as  in  the  inor- 
ganic world,  second  causes  carry  our  minds  back  from  step 
to  step  till  they  land  us  in  what  is  called  a  First  Cause, — i.e. 
one  which  is  not  to  be  resolved  into  anything  natural.  Hence, 
though  we  refer  the  vital  changes  which  we  observe  in  plants 
and  animals  to  chemical  or  mechanical  actions,  or  to  both 
combined,  we  are  led,  as  we  do  so,  to  ask  whence  proceed 
these  actions  called  Mechanical  or  Chemical  ?  If  they,  too, 
can  be  resolved  into  some  physical  Cause  or  Law  more  gen- 
eral than  themselves,  still  we  are  but  advancing  nearer  and 
nearer  to  a  point  which  must,  of  necessity,  be  reached  at  last, 

(229) 


230  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

and  which  is  generally  reached  soon, —  the  point  where  all 
physical  sequences  seem  to  end,  since  we  can  trace  them  no 
further.  Yet  there  is  still  an  effect  to  be  referred  to  its  Cause, 
or  a  fact  to  be  resolved  into  some  other  fact  more  general  and 
comprehensive  ;  and  we  must  therefore  consent  to  move  for- 
ever in  the  same  narrow  circle,  or  we  must  do  what  reason 
requires  us  to  have  done  at  every  link  of  the  long  chain  of 
sequences  we  have  traced, — at  every  fact  which  we  have  been 
resolving  into  some  other  fact  more  general.  We  must  recog- 
nize our  own  ignorance  and  the  utter  insufficiency  of  every 
scientific  explanation  of  phenomena  which  does  not  carry 
with  it  the  clear  recognition  of  this  truth,  that  the  primary 
object  of  Natural  Science,  in  respect  to  events,  is  not  to  find 
their  ultimate  or  efficient,  but  simply  their  proximate  and 
general  cause, — to  ascertain  their  relation  to  each  other,  and 
the  physical  conditions  under  which  they  may  be  expected  to 
recur. 

Recognizing  this  truth,  we  recognize  at  the  same  time  that 
at  every  step,  in  a  series  of  Natural  Phenomena  or  Vital  Ac- 
tions, there  is  something  more  than  the  natural — some  power 
in  which  it  rests  —  which  made  it  what  it  is,  and  that  this 
power  is  characterized  by  Intelligence  and  Personality.  Any 
efficiency  which  can  reside  in  second  causes  must  be  a  derived 
and  dependent  efficiency, — one  which  not  only  came  at  first 
from  the  original  of  all  power,  but  which  is  constantly  fed 
and  nourished  from  the  same  fountain.  An  Ambassador  goes 
from  his  own  country  to  represent  it  at  a  foreign  court.  He 
goes  not  merely  to  represent  it,  but  also  in  some  sense  to  en- 
joy and  exercise  there  its  proper  sovereignty.  Hence  his 
country's  flag  floats  over  his  hotel ;  by  a  fiction  of  Law  he 
is  supposed  to  have  carried  his  country  with  him,  and  his 
person,  effects,  and  servants  are  all  privileged  from  arrest  by 
any  foreign  authority.  Yet,  with  all  his  power,  what  is  he, 
separated  from  the  Principal,  whose  agent  he  is  ?  What  would 
he  be  if  his  government  and  people  were  to  perish  ?     His 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING    TO  DIVINE   EXISTENCE.     23 1 

prerogatives  and  powers  would  be  abrogated  in  a  moment. 
His  official  responsibility  and  authority  would  expire  so  soon 
as  they  ceased  to  receive  fresh  accessions  of  efficiency  from 
the  sovereign  power  that  first  bestowed  them.  And  so  it 
must  be  with  every  secondary  cause ;  so  especially  with  every 
natural  agent,  whether  in  the  organic  or  the  inorganic  world. 
Our  minds  instinctively  revolt  from  the  idea  of  attributing  to 
such  an  agent  any  ultimate  and  independent  efficiency  of  its 
own,  in  virtue  of  which  it  could  exist  and  act,  though  other 
and  higher  powers  in  the  universe  were  annihilated. 

We  call  attention  distinctly  to  this  truth,  because  it  seems 
to  meet  two  errors  which  are  prevalent.  The  one  is,  that 
though  we  admit  a  Creator  to  originate  the  system,  we  do  not 
need  Him  to  uphold  and  carry  it  forward.  It  seems  to  be 
forgotten  that  if  it  require  power  to  originate  changes,  so  it 
requires  power  to  bring  them  to  their  completion.  If  in  the 
one  case  we  need  a  Creator,  in  the  other  we  need  a  Preserver 
and  Governor.  Every  successive  change,  whether  in  the 
physical  or  physiological  state  of  bodies,  is  as  distinct  a  proof 
of  the  substantial  agency  of  Him  "  in  whom  are  all  things, 
and  by  whom  all  things  consist,"  as  was  the  first  phe- 
nomenon that  called  forth  the  admiration  of  higher  intelli- 
gences on  that  day  when  the  morning  stars  sang  together  and 
all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy. 

"  Science  is  pious,"  says  Quinet,  "  when  she  finds  every- 
where a  pcruianent  miracle,  and  is  thus  enveloped  on  all  sides 
by  revelation^  It  is  not  only  the  written  word  that  teaches 
that  God  is  He  in  whom  all  things  subsist ;  that  even  the 
fowls  of  the  air  and  the  lilies  of  the  field  are  cared  for  and  fed 
and  clothed  by  Him  ;  that  He  numbers  the  hairs  of  our  head, 
and  notes  a  sparrow's  fall  to  the  ground, — true  Philosophy, 
also,  sends  forth  from  her  oracles  the  same  lesson.  She  pro- 
claims, too,  that  it  is  when  the  Lord  of  All  sendeth  forth  his 
winds  from  the  cold  North  that  our  streams  congeal,  and  the 
sweet  influences  of  Pleiades  are  bound  up ;  and  that  when  He 


232 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


bloweth  with  his  South  wind,  the  icy  chains  arc  melted  and 
the  waters  again  flow ;  that  it  is  when  He  breathes  into  man 
the  breath  of  Hfe  that  man  becomes  a  hving  soul ;  and  that 
when  he  taketh  away  their  breath,  all  living  creatures  die  and 
return  to  their  dust.  There  are  second  causes  which  operate, 
and  operate,  too,  according  to  fixed  laws.  All  is  order,  but 
it  is  the  order  of  all-pervading  and  superintending  mind, — not 
of  fixed  fate  or  of  blind  instinct. 

Another  error  which  would  disappear  if  this  truth  were 
more  clearly  appreciated,  is  the  idea  that  if  the  phenomena 
of  life  in  individuals,  or  the  beginning  of  life  in  a  species,  were 
once  resolved  into  the  agency  of  mechanical  and  chemical 
laws,  we  should  lose  most  important  evidence  for  the  Creator's 
Existence  and  personality.  If  there  be  no  immaterial  princi- 
ple of  Life,  nor  spiritual  principle  of  mind,  what  proof  can  we 
have  (it  may  be  asked)  that  God  is  a  Living  and  Spiritual 
Creator,  or  that  man  is  destined,  soul  and  body,  to  the  inherit- 
ance of  another  and  retributory  life  ?  We  answer,  that  how- 
ever influential  chemical  and  mechanical  causes  may  be  in 
originating  life  at  first,  or  in  transmitting  it  from  parent  to  off- 
spring, or  in  carrying  forward  its  functions  in  each  individual 
plant  or  animal,  these  causes  themselves  are  to  be  accounted 
for.  This  wondrous  power  of  theirs, — the  power  of  evolving 
life,  with  its  functions  of  spontaneous  motion  and  ceaseless 
change  and  assimilating  force,  with  its  round  of  birth  and 
growth,  of  decline  and  death, — the  power  of  evolving  such 
phenomena  from  mere  matter  which  is  essentially  inert,  im- 
penetrable, and  heavy, — here  is  a  power  which  requires  to  be 
explained.  If  the  existence  of  an  immaterial  principle  called 
I>ife,  as  the  proximate  source  of  these  phenomena,  be  strange, 
.tranger  still,  beyond  measure,  is  the  fact  that,  from  sources 
merely  material,  results  so  foreign  to  all  matter  should  be 
educed  ;  and  if  a  God  be  needed  to  originate  and  sustain  the 
one,  is  He  not  still  more  needed  to  bring  about  the  other? 

Suppose,  then,  that  the  existence  and  functions  of  the  young 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING    TO  DIVINE   EXISTENCE. 


233 


plant  or  animal  might  all  be  resolved  into  the  properties  of 
the  parent  germ  from  which  it  sprang,  with  coexistent  physi- 
cal agencies,  such  as  light  and  heat,  and  that  thus  we  can 
ascend  from  child  to  parent  till  we  reach  the  beginning  of  the 
species  ;  and  suppose  we  ascertain,  moreover,  that  when  those 
progenitors  first  started  into  existence,  it  was  not  through  any- 
supernatural  power,  through  any  direct  and  creative  effort  of 
the  Most  High,  but  that  certain  portions  of  matter  had  the 
mysterious  property  of  passing  from  the  inorganic  to  the 
organic  state, — of  taking  to  themselves  some  specific  form 
of  plant  or  animal,  and  going  through  the  cycle  of  its  vital 
changes ;  suppose,  too,  that  in  the  processes  of  our  own 
bodies  we  can  discover  no  fact  which  may  not  be  resolved 
into  material  causes,  still,  these  causes  are  but  finite  and  de- 
pendent powers.  What  have  they  that  they  did  not  receive? 
They  cannot  originate  the  energies  with  which  they  act,  and 
it  can  be  shown  that  those  energies  have  not  always  been  in 
play.  There  was  a  time,  and  it  seems  to  have  stretched  itself 
through  a  mighty  interval,  when  there  was  no  life  in  the  earth, 
though  there  was  a  great  globe  of  matter  in  constant  change. 
Whence  did  it  happen,  then,  that  all  at  once  this  dead  matter 
put  forth  such  strange  power,  and  developed  itself  in  such 
new  forms  ?  Who  gave  to  it  not  merely  the  power  of  spon- 
taneous generation,  but  the  power  also  of  reproducing  or 
propagating  itself  in  numberless  successive  individuals  of  the 
same  species,  so  that  there  should  be  occasion  but  once  in  all 
time  for  that  specific  form  of  development, — that  such  develop- 
ment should  thus  stand  forever  by  itself  an  isolated,  solitary 
fact  ?  Here  are  motions,  and  motions,  says  Aristotle,  carry 
our  minds  irrepressibly  to  a  mover,  and  such  motions,  let  us 
add,  call  for  a  mover  of  creative  power  to  originate  matter, — 
to  endue  it  with  the  mysterious  power  of  development  which, 
after  slumbering  for  ages  on  ages,  could  leap  forth  but  once  to 
its  effect,  and  then  retire — all  other  things  continuing  as  they 
were — into  its  original  quiescence. 


234 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


When,  then,  the  unbeliever  or  the  Epicurean  Philosopher 
strives  to  solve  all  the  phenomena  of  life  by  means  of  physi 
cal  causes  alone,  or  when,  on  the  discovery  of  some  new  law 
in  the  chemistry  of  life,  he  leaps  at  once  to  the  conclusion 
that,  in  like  manner,  chemistry  will  in  time  be  found  sufficient 
to  solve  all  the  functions  of  organized  and  living  beings,  let 
him  not  persuade  himself  that  he  has  escaped  from  evidence 
in  behalf  of  Religion.  He  has  relieved  himself  of  one  prob- 
lem only  to  have  it  replaced  by  another.  There  are  still 
powers  and  properties  to  be  explained,  and  they  will  be  found 
to  point,  with  steady  finger,  towards  a  First  Cause  at  once 
personal  and  spiritual.  Matter  tells  not  of  an  Eternal  and 
unvarying  power  like  the  soul  of  the  world  of  the  ancients, — 
a  power  which  acts  without  forecast,  choice,  or  self-conscious- 
ness. In  its  ultimate  atoms,  in  its  masses,  and  in  its  arrange- 
ments, it  speaks  of  a  free  and  personal  Creator.  Each  one 
of  its  constituent  molecules,  as  we  have  seen,  has  all  the  char- 
acteristics "  of  a  manufactured  article."  The  masses  which 
form  the  primary  and  secondary  planets  of  the  Solar  System, 
and  the  collocation  and  arrangement  of  those  masses,  are  all 
characterized,  on  the  one  hand,  by  too  much  of  uniformity  to 
be  consistent  with  chance  ;*  and,  on  the  other  hand,  by  too 
many  deviations  from  the  law  of  continuity!  to  be  the  result 

*  La  Place  has  shown,  in  respect  to  the  well-known  law  that  tlie  motion  of 
rotation  of  the  satellites  around  their  primaries  is  equal  to  the  motion  of  revo- 
lution, that  there  are  two  thousand  probabilities  against,  to  one  in  favor  of,  its 
being  fortuitous  or  the  result  of  chance. 

f  The  densities  of  the  planets  do  not  follow  any  regular  law,  the  sun  being 
only  one-fourth  of  that  of  the  earth, — the  densities  of  Venus,  Earth,  and  Mars 
being  nearly  equal,  while  the  density  of  Uranus  is  greater  than  that  of  Saturn, 
which  is  nearer  the  Sun.  The  motions  of  the  Satellites  of  Uranus  deviate  in 
direction  from  the  general  rule,  being  from  East  to  West ;  and  there  is  not  such 
uniformity  in  the  relative  distances  of  the  planets  and  of  the  satellites  as  a  law 
of  uniformity  would  require.  So  Sir  I.  Newton,  in  a  letter  to  Bentely,  states 
that  there  is  no  discoverable  reason  why  the  Sun,  which  is  the  centre  of  attrac- 
tion of  the  Solar  System,  should  also  be  the  centre  of  its  light  and  heat. 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING    TO  DIVINE  EXISTENCE. 


235 


of  mere  natural  law  or  necessity.  It  will  be  seen,  hereafter, 
that  corresponding  indications  of  a  Sovereign  will — an  appoint 
ing  and  arranging  power — abound  throughout  the  world  of  or- 
ganized and  living  beings.  He,  then,  who  doubts  or  rejects  the 
first  truths  of  Religion,  need  not  hope  that  he  will  escape  all 
natural  evidence  in  their  behalf  by  taking  refuge  in  the  system 
of  materialism;  nor  need  he  who  hopes  and  believes  in  God  fear, 
though  it  should  be  shown  by  the  light  of  advancing  Science 
that  all  the  phenomena  of  life  can  be  traced  to  the  proxi- 
mate action  of  physical  as  distinguished  from  hyperphysical 
causes. 

But  is  this  result  likely?  Is  it  probable  that  Science  will 
demonstrate  that  what  we  call  the  vital  power  is  only  a  name 
to  denote  a  congeries  of  material  changes  and  actions,  and 
that  Mechanics  and  Chemistry  will  be  found  sufficient,  at 
last,  to  explain  alike  the  origin  of  species  and  the  vital  or- 
ganic functions  of  individuals  ?  This  question  is  worthy  of 
consideration.  It  becomes  us,  both  as  friends  of  Science  and 
as  friends  of  Revelation,  to  inquire  whether  that  which  has 
been  the  prevailing  belief  of  mankind  for  thousands  of  years, 
and  which  has  been  supposed  to  enjoy  alike  the  sanction  of 
Reason  and  of  Scripture,  is  only  a  figment. 

We  begin  with  tJie  origin  of  species.  Geology  directs  its 
mighty  telescope  into  the  distant  depths  of  the  past,  just  as 
Astronomy,  with  the  aid  of  artificial  glasses,  penetrates  into 
the  remoter  regions  of  space.  Geology  conducts  us  from  one 
to  another  formation,  which  entombs  the  remains  of  extinct 
races  of  animals  and  plants  until,  at  length,  it  reaches  a  line 
beyond  which  death  never  penetrated,  because  life  had  never 
been.  There  it  seems  to  stand,  at  the  confines  which  separate 
later  geological  periods  during  which  organized  and  living 
beincfs  existed  on  the  earth,  and  those  earlier  times  when  all 
was  silent  and  lifeless  matter.  It  places  us  where  we  seem  to 
hear  a  fiat  going  forth, — "  Let  there  be  life."  Then  appeared 
organized  and  living  substances, — plants   and  animals;  and 


236  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

of  these,  class  after  class,  from  the  invertebrate  animals  to  the 
vertebrate,  and  from  the  vertebrate  of  the  lower  classes,  such 
as  fishes,  up  through  reptiles  and  birds  to  mammalia  and  to 
man,  who  is  the  characteristic  denizen  as  well  as  lord  of  the 
geological  epoch  in  which  we  live. 

Did  that  fiat  emanate  from  a  mere  material  power  or  from 
one  that  was  Supernatural  ?  Was  this  apparition  of  living 
beings  on  the  earth  the  result  of  spontaneous  generation, — of 
the  concurrence  of  certain  physical  causes, — or  was  it  the  result 
of  His  volition,  who  speaks,  and  it  is  done,  who  commands, 
and  it  stands  fast?  They  who  advocate  spontaneous  genera- 
tion, such  as  Lamarck,  Maillet,  Geoffroy  St.-Hiiaire,  have  their 
merit  as  physiologists,  but  over  against  their  authority  we  can 
place  names  still  more  illustrious.  Cuvier,  the  brightest  light 
of  his  age  in  this  department  of  Science,  declared,  after  a  la- 
borious exploration  of  the  fossil  remains  of  the  globe,  that  he 
could  find  nowhere  on  those  petrified  records  any  trace  of  a 
generation  so  curious.  Such  is  the  testimony  of  the  latest  and 
ablest  of  those  who  have  devoted  themselves  to  the  study  of 
Palaeontology;*  and  their  testimony  seems  to  be  conclusive, 
since  it  is  next  to  impossible  to  conceive  that  a  transition  of 
matter,  from  the  inorganic  to  the  organized  and  living  state, 
had  it  taken  place  spontaneously  and  gradually,  should  not 
have  been  arrested  by  petrifaction  at  all  its  different  stages, 
and  thus  have  furnished  us  with  specimens  of  monstrous  mal- 
formation in  every  species.  But  no  such  specimens  have 
been  discovered.  Nothing  is  abnormal :  "  Every  organic  part 
is  finished,  every  animal  complete, — the  first  of  his  race  as 
complete  as  its  offspring  of  the  present  day."  To  the  testi- 
mony of  Cuvier,  we  may  add  the  testimony  of  an  eminent 
naturalist  (Agassiz),  who  has  adopted  the  United  States  of 


*  See  Mr.  Lyell's  first  four  chapters  in  his  "Principles  of  Geology;"  De  La 
Beche's  Geologic.il  Researches,  p.  239 ;  and  also  Buckland,  Conybeare,  Sedg- 
wick, Philips,  and  Owen. 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING    TO  DIVINE  EXISTENCE.    237 

North  America  as  his  home.  Both  in  his  report  on  the  fossil 
fishes  of  the  Devonian,  or  old  Red  Sandstone  formation,  read 
before  the  British  Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science, 
and  in  his  great  work  on  Fossil  Fishes,  he  bears  distinct  testi- 
mony to  the  supernatural  origin  of  animals  and  plants.  In 
the  former  of  these  works,  he  says,*  "It  is  a  truth,  which  I 
consider  now  as  proved,  that  the  ensemble  of  organized  beings 
was  renewed  not  only  in  the  interval  of  the  great  geological 
divisions  which  we  have  agreed  to  term  formations,  but  also  at 
the  time  of  the  deposition  of  each  particular  member  of  all  the 
formations."  In  the  latter  work,t  after  rejecting  the  scheme 
of  natural  development,  he  affirms,  "  It  is  necessary  that  we 
recur  to  a  cause  more  exalted,  and  recognize  influences  more 
powerful,  exercising  over  all  nature  an  action  more  direct,  if 
we  would  not  move  eternally  in  a  vicious  circle.  For  myself, 
I  have  the  conviction  that  species  have  been  created  succes- 
sively at  distinct  intervals,  and  that  the  changes  which  they 
have  undergone  during  a  geological  epoch  are  very  secondary, 
relating  only  to  their  fecundity  and  to  migrations,  dependent 
on  epochal  influences." 

But  if  Geology  shows  that  there  are  no  traces  of  sponta- 
neous generation  in  the  distant  past.  Zoology  and  Physiology 
demonstrate  that  there  are  none  but  the  slenderest  tokens  of 
its  existence  now.  One  after  another  case,  of  what  was  once 
regarded  as  a  specimen  of  this  equivocal  generation,  has  dis- 
appeared before  the  searching  scrutiny  of  Science,  and  has 
thus  prepared  us  to  expect  that  a  similar  fate  awaits  others 
not  yet  explained.  Some  years  since,  Lamarck  and  his  as- 
sociates appealed,  with  an  air  of  exultation,  to  the  smallest 
species  of  Infusoria  or  microscopic  animals  (such  as  monads) 
as  examples  of  the  "  natural  development  of  a  particle  to  a 
mammal,  at  that  point  of  the  process  where  the  organism 


*  Twelfth  Report  of  the  British  Association,  p.  85. 
t  Poissons  Fossiles — towards  the  close. 


238  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

stands  between  the  vegetable  and  animal  worlds.  It  was  sup- 
posed that  these  little  beings  consisted  of  a  homogeneous 
substance,  that  they  had  neither  mouth  nor  digestive  organ, 
and  were  nourished  only  by  means  of  absorption  through  the 
external  surface  of  the  body.  But  Ehrenbcrg  has  subjected 
them  to  the  action  of  his  powerful  microscope,  having  first 
supplied  them  with  organic  coloring  matter  as  nutriment,  and 
he  finds  that  they  are  highly  organized,  having  a  mouth  and 
organs  of  digestion  and  reproduction,  and  oftentimes  also  a 
muscular  system."* 

Is  it  not  likely  that  a  similar  discovery  awaits  on  other 
facts,  which  are  still  relied  on  as  supporting  the  theory  of 
spontaneous  generation?  For  instance,  the  Acari  Crossii,  the 
minute  animal  and  plantlike  forms  which  have  been  de- 
veloped by  Mr.  Cross  under  the  action  of  a  powerful  electric 
battery,  is  it  not  to  be  presumed  that  they,  if  real  organic 
structures,  will  be  brought  within  the  ordinary  law  ?  With 
whatever  care  his  apparatus  is  prepared,  in  order  to  exclude 
the  presence  of  all  ova  or  pre-existent  germs  of  animalcules, 
those  germs  might  still  be  there.  The  animal  itself— much 
more  its  ovum — is  exceedingly  minute,  and  it  may,  like  the 
flour-eel  and  the  wheel-animalcule,  be  so  tenacious  of  life  that 
none  of  the  means  employed  to  extirpate  it  have  been  sufficient. 
Those  last  have  been  subjected  for  twenty-eight  days  to  a 
heat  of  248°  Fahrenheit, — where  there  was  no  air  and  where 
they  were  acted  upon  constantly  by  the  chloride  of  calcium 
and  sulphuric  acid, — and  yet,  after  all,  have  been  resuscitated. 
It  deserves  remark,  too,  that  the  creatures,  said  to  be  de- 
veloped solely  by  means  of  physical  action,  start  into  life  full 
grown  (conferva;  or  infusoria),  instead  of  appearing,  accord- 
ing to  the  principles  of  regular  and  continuous  progression,  in 
their  embryo  state.  They  appear,  too,  when  developed,  to 
have  been  filled  with  eggs,  which  would  seem  conclusive  of 

*  Harris's  Preadamile  Earth,  p.  285. 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING    TO  DIVINE   EXISTENCE. 


239 


the  fact  that  they  have  been  derived  from  other  individuals 
of  the  same  species. 

If  we  are  referred  to  the  parasitic  animals  that  live  in  the 
interior  of  other  animals,  as  specimens  of  spontaneous  gen- 
eration, we  should  remember  that  their  ova  can  penetrate 
wherever  food  or  air  can  pass,  and  that  so  long  as  pins  and 
needles  work  their  way  from  the  surface  far  into  the  in- 
terior of  animal  bodies,  we  need  not  wonder  that  the  germs 
of  beings  so  minute  as  these  should  be  able,  by  some  means, 
to  accomplish  a  like  end.  We  esteem  ourselves  justified,  then, 
in  dismissing  the  Hypothesis  of  spontaneous  generation  or  nat- 
ural development  from  among  the  probable  causes  of  the  first 
origin  of  the  different  species  of  plants  and  animals.  Dis- 
missing it,  however,  we  have  hardly  an  alternative  but  to  turn 
to  the  creative  energy  of  Him  who  is  great  in  power  and 
mighty  in  operation.  Says  Mr.  Owen  (perhaps  the  very  best 
judge  of  such  questions  now  living,  and  who  well  merits  the 
title  of  the  Cuvier  of  England  and  of  our  day),  "  Of  the  intro- 
duction of  netv  species,  we  know  no  natural  cause,  and  can  hardly 
form  a  conception  of  sucJi!''^ 

We  turn  to  the  vital  processes,  as  seen  in  a  living  plant  or 
animal.  Can  they  be  resolved  into  laws  merely  physical,  into 
the  action  of  chemical  and  mechanical  causes  ?  Such  has 
been  the  opinion  of  some  physiologists  for  the  last  three  hun- 
dred years.  Has  the  progress  of  Science  within  that  time — 
the  discoveries  in  physiology,  inorganic  chemistry,  and  in  the 
anatomy  of  animals  and  men — contributed  to  strengthen  or 
to  weaken  such  physical  theories  of  life  ?  Is  it  more  or  less 
probable  than  it  once  was  that  life  is  destined  to  be  abrogated 
from  among  the  primary  objects  of  human  thought,  and  to 
take  its  place  among  those  secondary  principles,  which  can  be 
easily  resolved  into  the  action  of  attraction  and  repulsion  ? 
Certain  it  is,  that  when  one  cause  is  sufficient  to  account  for 


*  Art.  Physiology,  Brande's  Encyclopaedia. 


240 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


given  phenomena,  it  is  unphilosophical  to  assume  the  exist- 
ence of  others.  If,  therefore,  chemistry  and  mechanics  are 
competent  to  the  explanation  of  vital  functions,  all  other  solu- 
tions that  presuppose  principles  not  mechanical  or  chemical 
must  be  gratuitous,  and  therefore  inadmissible. 

What,  then,  is  the  fact  ?  Take  the  principal  functions  of 
life,  such  as  circulation  and  assimilation,  or  its  principal  pro- 
ducts,  the  so-called  "proximate  elements^'  such  as  fibrin,  albu- 
men, and  gelatine,  in  animal  bodies,  sugar,  starch,  resin,  in 
vegetables.  Can  these  be  accounted  for  on  Mechanical  or 
Chemical  Principles  ?  We  answer  by  appealing  to  facts  and 
to  the  authority  of  some  of  the  most  eminent  physiolo- 
gists. 

I.  Mr.  Owen,  speaking  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood  in  ani- 
mals, asks,  What  is  the  cause  or  condition  of  the  reaction  of 
the  fibres  of  the  hollow  muscle  (the  heart)  upon  the  stimu- 
lating fluid  (the  blood)  ?  And  again,  speaking  of  the  func- 
tions of  nutrition  and  excretio7i,  he  asks,  "  How  does  each 
tissue  of  the  body  select  from  the  currents  of  blood  flowing 
through  the  terminal  capillaries,  the  appropriate  particles  for 
its  growth  or  reparation,  and  in  return  add  to  the  blood,  either 
directly  or  through  the  medium  of  lymphatic  vessels,  its  effete 
particles?"  "These,"  he  says,  "are  questions  which  Physi- 
ology has  yet  to  resolve:"  and,  therefore,  we  may  be  sure  that 
they  have  not  been  resolved  by  Chemistry  or  Mechanical  Phi- 
losophy. In  other  words,  there  is  no  cause  or  condition  known 
either  to  Physics  or  to  Physiology  which  can  explain  these  phe- 
nomena. So  Baussingault,  one  of  the  most  eminent  organic 
and  agricultural  chemists  of  the  age,  says,  when  speaking  of 
the  circulation  of  the  sap  in  vegetables,  "We  are  still  ignorant 
of  the  cause  of  the  ascent  of  liquids  in  vegetables,  which  car- 
ries them  to  the  remotest  leaves,  in  spite,  as  it  were,  of  the 
laws  of  hydrostatics.  Porosity,  in  the  spongioles  of  the  roots, 
will  account  for  moisture  being  imbibed ;  but  neither  it  nor 
any  chemical  modification   effected  by  the  spongioles  upon 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING    TO  DIVINE   EXISTENCE. 


241 


the  fluid  imbibed,  will  give  the  least  explanation."*  And  to 
the  same  effect  is  the  testimony,  in  respect  to  organic  func- 
tions, of  Carpenter,  our  latest  and  most  popular  writer  on 
Physiology :  "  The  conversion  of  chyle  into  blood,  and  of 
blood  into  fibre,  the  nutrition  of  plants,  the  formation  of  sap, 
and  the  change  of  sap  into  vegetable  fibre,  gum,  bark,  flowers, 
etc.  cannot  be  resolved  into  physical  laws."  "  Blood  and 
sap,  unless  endowed  with  vital  properties,  would  be  totally 
inert." 

II.  Here,  then,  we  have  the  incompetency  of  any  purely 
physical  or  material  hypothesis  in  respect  to  the  nature  and 
origin  of  life,  distinctly  proclaimed,  and  proclaimed  by  the 
highest  human  authority.  But  that  incompetency  is  manifest, 
not  merely  in  explaining  i\\e  fienctioiis  of  life,  it  is  equally  mani- 
fest in  attempting  to  explain  the  products  of  vital  action.  Take 
what  are  called  organized  substances  (a  plant  or  animal),  or 
take  their  proximate  elements,  which  are  also  organic,  and 
compare  them  with  those  of  inorganic  substances ;  make 
the  comparison  by  the  aid  of  Chemistry  alone  :  (i)  In  the  one 
class  (organic)  you  have  only  eighteen  out  of  the  sixty-two 
simple  bodies  known  to  chemistry,  and  of  these  eighteen  but 
four  play  any  prominent  part  (oxygen,  hydrogen,  nitrogen,  and 
carbon).  In  the  other  class  (inorganic),  all  the  simple  bodies 
or  elements  are  put  in  requisition.  (2)  In  organic  bodies  the 
simple  bodies  combine  in  pairs,  or  triads,  or  even  in  a  qua- 
ternary manner ;  in  inorganic  bodies  they  combine,  in  the 
first  instance,  only  on  the  binary  principle, — that  is,  in  pairs. 
(3)  The  combination  of  these  elements  does  not  follow  the 
arithmetical  ratio  in  organic,  as  it  always  does  in  inorganic, 
bodies.  (4)  Organic  compounds  are  unstable,  evincing  a  much 
greater  tendency  to  decomposition  than  inorganic  substances. 
(5)  When  decomposed  by  analysis,  organic  bodies  cannot 
be  regenerated  by  synthesis,  as  inorganic  ones  can.     (6)  The 

*  Boussingault's  Rural  Economy. 
16 


242 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


manner  in  which  organic  products  are  elaborated  is  one  which, 
to  use  the  language  of  an  eminent  philosopher,  "we  do  not 
understand,  and  cannot  imitate."  Here,  then,  are  six  marked 
peculiarities  in  organic  substances  which  are  perfectly  inex- 
plicable and  anomalous,  if  those  substances  are  acted  upon 
only  by  physical  forces. 

And  so  with  the  ;;/tr/!f?///r<7/ properties  of  organized  tissues. 
While  living  a  muscle  supports  a  greater  weight,  or  is  capa- 
ble of  bearing  much  greater  tension,  than  when  dead.  The 
parts  of  the  living  frame  {e.g.  joints),  by  moving  on  each  other, 
do  not  suffer  a  loss  of  matter  through  attrition  or  friction,  as 
is  the  case  with  the  parts  of  a  machine.  On  the  contrary,  a 
joint  kept  duly  in  motion  is  both  larger  and  more  healthy 
than  when  left  to  entire  rest  or  inaction.  Who  can  reflect  on 
facts  like  these,  which  might  be  multiplied  to  almost  any  ex- 
tent, and  yet  not  conclude  that  there  is  about  the  functions 
and  products  of  organized  and  living  beings  something  hy- 
perphysical, — that  which  is  higher  than  mere  matter;  some 
power  pre-existent  to  the  organs,  since  it  builds  them  up,  and 
is,  in  fact,  the  organizing  principle  ;  something  which  must 
be  more  than  chemical,  since  it  combines  elements  in  a  man- 
ner which  puts  mere  chemistry  at  defiance, — which  must  be 
more  than  mechanical,  since  it  often  works  as  the  antagonist 
of  mechanical  forces ;  a  power  which  co-operates  with  mate- 
rial properties,  but  as  their  master,  not  their  servant, — co-ope- 
rates with  physical  laws,  but  at  the  .same  time  subordinates, 
directs,  and,  at  times,  nullifies  them  ;  a  power  which,  in  short, 
is  more  than  matter  and  less  than  mind?  We  say /r.yi- than 
mind,  because  there  is  often  life  where  there  is  no  mind,  as  in 
vegetables ;  and  again,  because  in  the  germs  of  animals  there 
is  life,  but  no  brain ;  and  where  there  is  no  brain  mind  is  not 
found. 

III.  The  same  conclusion  is  forced  upon  us,  when  we  con- 
trast inorganic  mid  organic  substances,  in  respect  to  their  ob- 
vious  characteristics.      We  say  contrast,  for  any  attempt  at 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING    TO  DIVINE  EXISTENCE.    243 

comparison  will  show  that  the  points  of  difference  are  more 
numerous  than  the  points  of  resemblance.  Take,  for  instance, 
a  mineral  and  a  plant,  and  that  the  comparison  may  give  every 
advantage  to  the  former,  let  that  mineral  be  crystalline,  hav- 
ing, like  flowers  and  plants,  a  symmetrical  form.  In  what 
particular  are  they  alike?  Both  are  composed  of  matter;  but 
in  the  mineral  the  particles  are  aggregated  or  combined 
chemically,  in  the  plant  they  are  assimilated.  If  addition  is 
made  to  the  mineral,  it  is  made  at  the  exterior  surface ;  if  to 
the  plant,  it  is  by  being  absorbed  into  the  interior,  and  there 
transformed  and  vitalized.  The  constituent  particles  of  the 
crystal  remain  at  rest,  those  of  the  plant  are  in  almost  cease- 
less motion,  so  that  a  living  organized  being  is  represented 
by  Cuvier  as  a  whirlpool.  The  crystal  had  its  immediate 
origin  in  certain  mechanical  and  chemical  properties  of  matter, 
— the  plant  had  its  immediate  origin  in  the  subjective  energy  of 
its  parent  germ,  excited  to  action  by  favoring  external  causes. 
The  one  owes  its  existence  to  external  agents,  and  through 
them  alone  can  perish.  The  other  has  an  internal  principle 
of  life,  in  virtue  of  which  it  must  grow  spontaneously,  attain 
maturity,  spontaneously  decline,  and  die.  The  crystal  has 
but  few  relations  to  other  bodies  and  substances.  The  plant 
is  most  intimately  related  to  light,  to  air,  to  moisture,  to  the 
soil  on  which  it  grows,  and  to  the  vicissitudes  of  the  seasons. 
In  the  one  we  can  see  the  results  of  physical  forces,  and  of 
them  alone ;  in  the  other  we  can  see  that  the  whole  life  of 
plants  "  consists  of  a  conflict  between  chemical  forces  and  the 
vital  powers.  In  the  normal  state  of  an  organized  body  these 
are  in  equilibrium.  Every  mechanical  or  chemical  agency 
which  disturbs  this  equilibrium  is  a  cause  of  disease.  Disease 
occurs  when  the  resistance  offered  by  the  vital  force  is  weaker 
than  the  acting  cause  of  disturbance.  Death  is  that  condition 
in  which  chemical  or  mechanical  powers  gain  the  ascendency 
and  all  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  vital  force  ceases."* 

*  Liebig. 


2AA  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Are  we  not  warranted,  then,  in  concluding  that  Life  is 
hyperphysical  ?  As  electricity,  magnetism,  and  light  are 
subtle  agents,  which  can  pass  from  one  body  to  another,  and 
are  not  inseparable  properties  of  any  material  particle,  so  here 
is  an  agent  still  more  subtle,  which  in  its  operation  employs 
light  and  electicity,  and  is  modified  by  them,  but  is  still  inde- 
pendent of  both,  and  often  paramount.  On  the  other  hand, 
we  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  cause  of  these  phenomena  is 
physical  or  mental,  since  they  are  observed  in  vegetables, 
in  a  segment  of  a  polyp,  and  are  present  in  every  living 
germ.  It  is  an  immaterial  and  essentially  living  power,  having 
no  inherent  and  independent  efficiency  of  its  own,  but  re- 
ferring us  for  all  its  efficiency  to  a  Self-Subsisting  First  Cause. 
As  immaterial,  it  indicates  that  its  parent  cause  may  not  be 
less, — as  living,  it  proclaims  that  its  origin  is  from  a  living  and 
conscious  Creator, — as  ever  active,  by  night  and  by  day,  it 
points  to  that  Creator  as  one  who  fainteth  not,  neither  is 
weary. 

And  this  conclusion,  be  it  remembered,  in  respect  to  the 
Divine  Character,  would  be  hardly  less  strong,  though  we 
should  admit  that  Life  is  but  the  resultant  effect  of  certain 
chemical  and  mechanical  causes,  for  none  but  a  spiritual  and 
ever-living  Creator  could  evolve,  through  successive  years 
and  ages,  immaterial  and  hyperph3^sical  effects  from  physical 
causes.  Indeed,  our  consciousness,  as  well  as  our  experience, 
constrain  us  to  look  for  the  primary  cause  and  ultimate  ground 
of  all  regular  and  orderly  changes,  such  as  those  which  pre- 
vail in  organized  beings,  to  the  free  volition  of  a  self-existent 
and  immaterial  mind. 

"  Our  hearts  are  awed  within  us  when  we  think 
Of  the  great  miracle  that  still  goes  on 
In  silence  round  us, — the  perpetual  work 
Of  his  creation,  finished,  yet  renewed 
Fore%'er.     Written  on  his  works  wc  read 
The  lesson  of  his  own  Eternity. 
Lo,  all  grow  old  and  die  !  but  see  again 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING    TO  DIVINE  EXISTENCE. 

How  on  the  faltering  footsteps  of  decay 
Youth  passes — ever  gay  and  beautiful  youth — 
In  all  its  beautiful  forms. 

Life  mocks  the  idle  hate 
Of  his  arch-enemy,  Death. 

That  delicate  forest  flower, 
With  scented  breath  and  look  so  like  a  smile. 
Seems,  as  it  issues  from  the  shapeless  mould, 
An  emanation  of  the  indwelling  Life, 
A  visible  token  of  the  upholding  Love, 
That  are  the  soul  of  this  wide  universe." 


245 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  LIFE- POWER  IN  NATURE  ILLUSTRATIVE  OF  DIVINE 

POWER. 

IT  was  the  object  of  the  last  chapter  to  show  how  Life,  as 
manifested  in  organized  bodies  (plants  and  animals),  indi- 
cates a  Great  First  Cause. 

We  proceed  now  to  set  forth,  in  the  light  of  General  Physi- 
ology, the  perfections  of  the  Creator, — and  I.  His  Power. 
When  we  would  unfold  the  greatness  of  the  Creator's  Power, 
we  usually  resort  to  Astronomy.  We  go  to  the  vast  spaces 
which  He  has  peopled  with  planetary  and  central  orbs.  We 
ascend  in  thought  from  system  to  system,  stretching  one  above 
and  beyond  another,  until  we  gain  a  point  so  distant  that  the 
interval  seems  to  confound  our  conceptions;  and  then  we 
think  of  the  mighty  masses  which  He  has  thus  poised  on 
empty  nothing, — of  those  suns  and  systems,  ever  occupying 
their  appointed  places,  and  wheeling  their  courses,  unshaken, 
through  the  void  immense.  And  these,  doubtless,  are  sublime 
and  impressive  views ;  but  we  are  by  no  means  sure  that  the 
operations  of  Life  do  not  afford  views  quite  as  impressive ; 
and  even  if  they  be  deemed  less  impressive,  we  are  strongly 
inclined  to  think  that  they  will  prove  to  be  even  more  in 
keeping  with  the  true  character  of  God  and  more  propitious 
to  our  best  welfare. 

It  should  never  be  forgotten  that  the  Power  of  God  is  some- 
thing more  than  mere  force, — mere  physical  potency.  The 
Creator  and  Upholder  of  all  things  is  not  merely  a  great  Me- 
chanician or  Engineer, —  a  Being  whose  highest  power  is 
manifested  in  feats  of  more  than  Herculean  or  gigantic 
strength,  in  uprearing  vast  masses  of  matter  or  overcoming 
(246) 


LIFE-POWER   ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE  POWER. 


247 


great  physical  resistance.  God  is  a  Spirit, — an  intelligent, 
forecasting,  moral  Being,  who  deals  not  only  with  matter,  but 
with  mind,  and  who  aims  to  render  both  significant  of  glory 
and  beauty,  and  both  subservient  to  our  good.  The  power 
of  such  a  Being  is  evinced  in  overcoming  mental  and  moral, 
as  well  as  physical,  difficulties ;  in  the  multitudinous  objects 
and  relations  which  he  keeps  ever  in  view  ;  in  the  complicated 
and  various  creations  of  his  mind  and  will ;  in  the  dignity  of 
the  results  attained.  Is  there  not  power  displayed  in  organ- 
izing a  living,  breathing,  sentient  being,  though  it  be  as  small 
as  the  smallest  animalcule, — a  being  who  has  matter  and  mat- 
ter perfectly  arranged  and  disposed,  but  who  has  also  some- 
thing higher  than  matter;  who  has  life,  and  perhaps  feeling; 
who  is  endowed  with  an  inward,  subjective  power,  which 
organizes  its  constituent  particles,  transforms  them  from  dead 
matter  to  living  substance  and  carries  them  forward  in  a 
round  of  changes  more  complicated  and  more  curious  than 
any  which  transpire  in  the  observed  motions  of  the  heavens? 
In  conceiving  of  God  we  should  beware  of  views  too  an- 
tJiropoviorpliical, — views  that  liken  Him  too  much  to  frail  and 
finite  man.  Because  zve  can  take  in  greater  spaces  with  our 
eye  more  quickly  and  readily  than  exceedingly  small  ones,  it 
by  no  means  follows  that  such  is  the  case  with  God.  Because 
to  us  it  would  be  difficult  to  raise  great  weights,  or  project 
them  far  into  space,  or  impress  upon  them  any  perpetual  mo- 
tion, is  it  therefore  difficult  to  One  who  is  almighty  ?  Be- 
cause our  minds  stagger  and  are  confounded  when  we  think 
of  the  immeasurable  distance  of  some  of  the  fixed  stars  and 
of  the  Hosts — countless  to  us — which  He  has  marshalled  in 
the  sky,  "  calling  them  all  by  their  names,"  is  it  thus  with 
Him  whose  greatness  is  unsearchable,  whose  power  is  past 
finding  out?  To  a  Being  truly  Infinite,  boundless  in  his 
presence,  and  in  his  pervading  energy,  great  and  small,  heavy 
and  light  can  be  of  no  account  in  acting.  As  with  Him,  a 
thousand  years  are  as  one  day,  and  one  day  as  a  thousand 


248  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

years, — so  with  Him,  a  thousand  miles,  a  thousand  leagues, 
a  thousand  millions  of  miles  must  be  as  one  mile,  as  one  foot, 
as  one  inch,  as  one-tenth,  or  one-thousandth  of  an  inch, — that 
is,  it  must  be  as  easy  for  such  a  Being  to  work  within  the 
compass  of  one  of  these  spaces  as  of  the  other,  and  as  easy 
for  Him  to  employ  and  unfold  there  all  his  Omnipotence, 
Dcinn  scjiipitemum,  said  Linnaeus,  when  he  had  been  study- 
ing the  wonders  of  microscopic  life.  Deum  scmpitcrnuvi  ct 
oniniscinni  ct  ovDiipotcnteDi  a  tergo  U'ansiejitem  vidi  ct  ob- 
stupiii.  It  is  the  language  of  high  philosophy  as  well  as  of 
lowly  piet\-.  No  being  so  small  that  he  is  not  a  mirror  large 
enough  to  reflect  the  wisdom  and  power  of  Him  that  made  it. 
No  space  so  vast  that  it  cannot  be  filled,  and  more  than  filled, 
with  the  immensity  of  the  Creator's  handiwork. 

But  if,  in  our  conceptions  of  God,  we  are  too  much  disposed 
to  liken  Him  to  men,  by  limiting  and  circumscribing  his 
Power,  we  are  sometimes  prone  to  degrade  Him  even  below 
man,  to  employ  principles,  in  estimating  his  character  or 
works,  which  we  should  refuse  to  apply  to  man,  whose 
strength  is  weakness,  and  who  hastencth  to  decay.  Con- 
ceptions which  were  borrowed  from  man  and  transferred  to 
God  in  the  infancy  of  society,  when  physical  strength  and 
prowess  constituted  the  highest  distinction,  such  conceptions 
often  remain  attached  to  the  Divine  Character  after  we  have 
withdrawn  them  from  his  erring  creatures.  How  is  it  when 
we  look  at  our  fellow-men,  especially  at  those  who  occupy 
the  high  places  of  the  world  ?  Do  we  measure  their  power 
by  the  masses  they  can  lift,  or  the  distance  through  which 
they  can  project  them  ?  Take  him  who  in  some  respects 
makes  the  nearest  approach  to  creative  efforts,  and  who  is 
therefore  called  the  Poet  or  Maker.  Do  we  estimate  his 
Power  by  the  length  of  the  ICpic  Poem  he  writes,  or  by  the 
extent  of  territory  over  which  he  carries  us  in  imagination  ? 
Or  the  Painter,  do  we  admire  his  Power  in  proportion  to  the 
square  feet  of  canvas  which  he  has  contrived  to  cover?     Or 


LIFE-POWER   ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE   POWER.     249 

the  great  Sculptor,  who  can  make  the  marble  breathe,  and 
embody  tales  of  heart-thrilling  interest,  do  we  appreciate  him 
by  the  number  of  cubic  yards  of  stone  which  he  has  hewn 
into  shape  ?  When  he  takes  a  shapeless  mass,  and  proposes 
to  extract  from  it  the  speaking  form,  he  employs  a  coarser 
hand  and  a  stronger  arm  to  cleave  off  the  superfluous  ma- 
terial. His  own  power  and  mastery  is  to  be  employed  in 
drawing  the  finer  lines,  in  rounding  and  delineating  a  muscle, 
in  developing  and  elaborating  a  vein  or  artery.  Think  not, 
then,  that  we  do  justice  to  God  when  we  represent  Him  as 
delighting  most  in  vast  distances,  or  in  attaining  to  merely 
huge  or  ponderous  results.  Within  the  compass  of  a  dew- 
drop,  where  we  find  millions  of  living  and  rejoicing  beings, 
God  may  have  displayed  a  power  which  the  astronomer 
cannot  find,  with  his  far-reaching  tube,  in  all  the  heavens ;  for 
nowhere  there,  with  telescope  of  mightiest  range,  has  he  yet 
discovered  one  living  being, — one  being  organized  and  en- 
dowed with  the  mysterious  and  wonder-working  power  of 
life, — one  being  that  is  born  and  lives,  and  desires  and  fears, 
pursues  and  is  pursued,  and  at  length  dies,  thus  enacting  a 
history  of  deeper  and  more  incomprehensible  interest  than 
was  ever  celebrated  by  the  music  of  the  spheres. 

Says  an  able  writer,  "  Science  is  Christian  when,  in  the  in- 
finitely small,  she  discerns  as  many  mysteries,  as  many  abysses, 
as  much  power  as  in  the  infinitely  great."  The  remark  is  just. 
Christianity  is  a  religion  of  condescension.  It  minds  not  high 
things.  When  Christ  came  to  earth  He  courted  not  the  so- 
ciety of  the  great  or  powerful.  Meek  and  lowly,  his  delight 
was  to  bend  his  ear  to  the  prayer  of  the  poor  destitute.  He 
carried  the  lambs  in  his  arms.  He  taught  that,  if  men  would 
become  great,  even  the  greatest  in  his  Kingdom,  they  must 
become  as  little  children.  He  taught  that  there  is  more  joy 
in  heaven,  among  its  angels,  over  one  sinner  repenting,  than 
over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  that  need  no  repentance. 
And  when  we  turn  to  microscopic  life,— to  beings  so  amazingly 


250 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


minute  that  it  requires  glasses  magnif}'ing  forty  thousand  times 
to  bring  them  into  view,  where  we  find  many  of  them  highly 
organized,  with  complicated  structures  and  manifold  functions, 
and  remember  that  each  of  these  tiny  beings  came  from  the 
Creator's  hand,  and  is  upheld  by  his  Power,  and  fulfils  beneath 
his  Providential  eye  its  appointed  office  in  the  system  of  the 
universe,  we  read  therein  God's  care  for  the  lowly, — assurance 
that  redemption  is  no  strange  fact.  These  little  and  dependent 
beings  seem  to  come  before  us  as  types  of  Him  who,  though 
He  was  rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  became  poor  ;  of  Him  who, 
though  He  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God,  yet 
willingly  humbled  Himself  and  took  on  Him  a  servant's  form, 
and  became  obedient  to  a  worse  than  servant's  death,  that 
man  might  live.  Does  the  scoffer  sneer  at  the  thought  that 
the  God  of  Immensity,  whom  the  Heaven  of  Heavens  cannot 
contain  ;  who  rules  over  myriads  on  myriads  of  worlds  which 
He  has  framed  and  on  which  He  has  planted,  perhaps,  a 
boundless  multitude  of  his  creatures, — does  he  stumble  at  the 
doctrine  of  Christ  and  Him  crucified, — at  the  idea  that  such 
a  Being  could  turn  aside  from  his  teeming  worlds  and  their 
busy  population  to  concentrate  his  regards  upon  a  planet  so 
insignificant  as  this ;  and  not  only  to  regard  it,  but  to  love  it 
with  a  surpassing  love, — such  love  that  He  gave  his  only  be- 
gotten Son,  that  they  who  believe  in  Him  should  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life?  Let  him  study  the  frame  of  yonder 
animalcule.  It  shall  rebuke  this  unbelieving  spirit.  It  shall 
proclaim  the  true  character  of  Him  with  whom  we  have  to 
do.  He  despises  not  the  day  or  place  of  small  things;  for 
the  High  and  Lofty  One,  though  He  inhabitcth  eternity, 
dwells  in  the  high  and  holy  place  with  him  also  that  is  of  a 
contrite  and  liuviblc  spirit,  to  revive  the  spirit  of  the  humble 
and  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones. 

There  is  another  moral  and  religious  use  of  Life  as  mani- 
fested in  its  minutest  forms.  It  shuts  us  up  towards  a  more 
ji/'/;7/'//^/ tone  of  thinking, — towards  faith  in  the  invisible  Txnd 


LIFE-POWER  ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE  POWER. 


251 


supersensiial.  In  respect  to  whatever  lies  beyond  the  cogni- 
zance of  sense,  we  are  prone  now  to  skepticism,  now  to  super- 
stition. Let  us  descend,  by  the  aid  of  the  microscope,  to  one 
and  another  rank  of  organized  beings,  receding  farther  and 
farther  from  magnitudes  visible  to  our  eyes,  or  appreciable 
by  our  intellects,  and  at  every  step  the  partition  wall  between 
the  material  and  the  immaterial  seems  to  grow  thinner.  We 
are  thus  prepared  for  transition  to  a  world  where  matter  is  not, 
and  where  spirit-forms,  imperceptible  to  mortal  sense,  throng 
about  us.  Time  was  when  all  the  countless  multitudes  of  mi- 
croscopic forms  that  now  animate  the  waters  ajid  float  on 
every  breeze,  were  to  man  as  though  they  had  no  being. 
They  were  working  for  him  in  many  ways :  supplying  food  for 
the  fish  on  which  he  fed;*  purifying,  as  well  as  animating  the 
water  he  drank  ;  removing  from  the  air  he  breathed  the  taint, 
perhaps,  of  many  a  pestilence.  Other  forms  there  were,  per- 
chance, which,  penetrating  to  his  lungs  or  viscera,  became  the 
sources  of  disease  and  death.  Here,  then,  were  innumerable 
ministers  of  good  or  ill  about  him  wherever  he  went,  ever 
busy  for  his  weal  or  woe,  of  whom  for  ages  he  knew  not, 
thought  not, — of  whom  he  thinks  but  little  now,  because  they 
do  not  press  upon  his  grosser  senses.  Should  not  this  fact 
suggest  to  us  how  much  like  truth  are  the  revelations  of 
Scripture  in  respect  to  the  good  and  bad  angels  that  are  repre- 
sented as  abroad  among  men, — the  legions  of  spirits  that  fly 
as  God's  ministers  of  mercy  to  his  heirs  of  salvation,  or  as 
the  devil's  emissaries  in  the  work  of  death  to  souls  ? 

"  Think  not,  though  man  were  not, 
That  Heaven  would  want  spectators,  God  want  praise; 
Millions  of  spiritual  beings  walk  the  earth 
Unseen,  both  when  we  wake  and  when  we  sleep." 

*  "  The  common  scallops,  as  well  as  other  mollusks,  often  contain  thousands  of 
shells,  which,  being  siliceous,  have  resisted  the  process  of  digestion.  A  glass 
slide,  mounted  with  a  few  particles  of  the  undigested  contents  of  the  stomach  of 
a  scallop,  presents  an  assemblage  of  infusorial  shells,  apparently  identical  with 
those  forming  the  Richmond  earth." — Mantell  on  Animalades,  p.  103. 


252 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


With  these  remarks  we  are  prepared  to  trace  the  indica- 
tions of  Divine  Power  which  can  be  discerned  in  the  con- 
stitution and  phenomena  of  living  creatures.  Power  reveals 
itself  through — i.  The  multiplicity  of  its  creations.  2.  Through 
the  principles  on  ivhich  its  tvorks  are  cofistructed.  3.  Through 
their  pozaer  to  outlive  the  vicissitudes  of  time,  and  to  withstand 
the  various  causes  of  decay.  4.  In  the  case  of  a  being  who  ex- 
erts physical  as  well  as  spiritual  strength,  we  should  measure 
his  pozver  by  the  mechanical,  chemical,  and  other  forces  which 
he  subjugates  and  employs.  These  are  the  tests  by  which  we 
should  try  the  productions  of  a  great  author  or  a  great  artist, 
or  the  achievements  of  a  great  general,  statesman,  mechanician, 
or  philanthropist.  The  second  of  them  being  the /;7';/(r//'/d' on 
which  living  beings  are  constituted,  we  shall  postpone  until  we 
come  to  consider  the  Wisdom  of  the  Creator,  so  that  the  re- 
mainder of  this  chapter  will  be  occupied  with  considering — 
I.  The  multiplicity  of  living  creatures  as  so  many  signs  of  their 
Creator's  power.  2,  Their  poiver  to  oiitlive  clianges  and  with- 
stand the  assaidts  of  physical  foes.  3.  The  intensity  of  their 
physical  energies. 

I.  The  multiplicity  of  living  creatures  (animal  and  vegeta- 
ble).— We  shall  gain  a  clearer  conception  of  the  Power  mani- 
fested through  this  multiplicity  if  we  consider — {a)  creatures 
now  alive ;  (Ji)  those  that  might  now  live;  and  {c)  those  that 
have  lived. 

(a)  The  multiplicity  of  animals  and  vegetables  noiv  alive. 
It  may  seem  presumptuous  and  absurd  to  attempt  any  sketch 
of  this.  A  few  illustrations  only  we  shall  venture  upon,  and 
with  a  deep  sense  of  their  feebleness  and  insufficiency.  Of 
all  the  different  and  independent  species  of  plants  and  animals 
now  living,  no  attempt  has  been  made  to  number  the  com- 
ponent individuals  of  any  one  of  them,  except  the  species 
man.  In  civilized  countries,  a  careful  census  is,  from  time  to 
time,  taken  of  the  inhabitants;  in  countries  imperfectly  civilized, 
and  in  barbarous  lands,  estimates  more  or  less  careful  and 


LIFE-POWER  ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE   POWER. 


253 


correct  have  been  made,  and  the  result  is  the  conclusion  that 
the  whole  number  of  human  beings  on  the  globe  does  not 
differ  essentially  from  one  thousand  million.  This  number  is 
easily  enunciated ;  it  is  easily  obtained  by  the  addition  of  its 
parts;  but  how  hardly  is  it  apprehended  by  the  mind  with 
clearness  and  distinctness!  One  hundred  thousand — the 
number  of  inhabitants  in  the  city  (Boston)  where  we  write — 
is  a  great  number.  Were  they  all  abroad  in  the  neighboring 
fields, — spread  out  upon  a  mountain-side,  ranged  in  regular 
files,  and  ranks, — what  a  mighty  host  would  they  appear! 
Yet,  if  we  separate  the  individuals  in  succession  from  the  rest 
of  that  host,  they  would,  one  by  one,  only  serve  to  represent 
the  various  species  of  plants  now  known  to  Botanists.  Accord- 
ing to  De  Candolle,  the  number  of  living  species  is  from  one 
hundred  and  ten  thousand  to  one  hundred  and  twenty  thou- 
sand, and  in  each  one  of  these  species,  whether  annual  or  per- 
ennial, the  individuals  must  be  numberless. 

Again,  if  we  increase  tenfold  this  hundred  thousand,  so 
that  we  get  a  million,  the  individuals  of  this  million  will 
barely  represent  as  many  different  and  independent  species  of 
animals,  aquatic  and  terrestrial,  which  exist  on  the  globe,  over 
and  above  microscopic  animalcules.  But  who  shall  attempt 
the  census  of  any  one  of  these  species  ?  It  has  been  com- 
puted that  there  are  fifteen  millions  of  buffaloes  still  roaming 
over  the  Western  Prairies  of  North  America,  a  number  al- 
most equal  to  the  human  population  of  England ;  and  yet 
they  are  but  the  remnant  spared  by  the  unrelenting  progress 
of  civilized  man,  and  the  incessant  warfare  waged  against 
them  alike  by  the  red  and  white  huntsman.  What  are  buf- 
faloes, however,  to  the  number  of  many  inferior  quadrupeds 
which  swarm  everywhere, — such,  for  instance,  as  those  pests 
of  our  houses,  barns,  and  fields, — mice  and  rats  ?  Mr.  Lyell* 
supposes  that  all  existing  mammalia,  whether  living  on  land 


*  Principles  of  Geology,  vol.  iii.  p.  91. 


254 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


or  water, — i.e.  all  animals  that  suckle  their  young, — constitute 
less  than  one-thousandth  part  of  the  whole  number  of  all 
classes.  His  conjectures  would  have  been,  perhaps,  nearer 
the  truth  if  he  had  said  one-ten-thousandth  part;  for  it  is 
worthy  of  remark  that  as  we  descend  in  the  animal  kingdom, 
from  those  of  greater  to  those  of  smaller  size,  the  species  gen- 
erally grow  more  prolific,  and  the  numbers  alive  at  any 
time  increase,  so  that  numbers  supply  the  place  of  strength. 
According  to  Walch,  a  single  species  even  of  the  smallest  in- 
sect can  commit,  when  required,  more  ravages  than  the  ele- 
phant. Clouds  of  such  insects,  of  different  kinds, — some  so 
minute  that  we  can  hardly  see  an  individual, —  often  form 
bands,  which  a  man  could  no  more  number  than  he  could 
number  the  sands  on  the  seashore,  and  which  lay  waste  the 
fields  of  the  husbandman  in  a  manner  the  most  fearful. 

If  from  dry  land  we  go  to  the  waters,  fresh  and  salt,  we  find 
them  swarming  everywhere  with  living  forms.  "  The  great 
and  wide  sea,  also,  wherein  are  things  creeping  innumerable, 
both  small  and  great  beasts."  This  description  from  the  Sa- 
cred Volume  is  true  to  the  letter.  Fish  are  found  much 
below  the  depth  of  a  thousand  feet.  They  occupy  a  surface 
more  than  twice  as  great  as  that  occupied  by  terrestrial  ani- 
mals. We  know,  too,  that  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  to  immense 
depths,  its  rocks  and  reefs,  its  tide-washed  shores,  are  every- 
where covered  with  molluscous,  crustaceous,  and  testaceous 
animals, — with  corals,  sponges,  and  echini. 

And  if  we  pass  into  the  region  of  microscopic  life,  which 
is  just  now  being  explored  with  great  enthusiasm,  what  va- 
rieties of  forms,  what  inconceivable  numbers,  break  upon  our 
view !  The  spray  that  flashes  at  night  with  phosphoric  bril- 
liancy before  the  prows  of  our  vessels  at  sea,  owes  its  luminous 
coruscations  to  myriads  of  animalcules — the  ocean  firefly — 
that  people  every  drop  of  sea-water.  In  the  tropics,  for  leagues 
the  ocean  seems  of  a  red,  rosy  hue,  owing  to  the  presence  of 
other  infusoria.     In  polar  regions  a  red  dust  has  been  found 


LIFE-POWER   ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE  POWER. 


555 


sprinkled  for  considerable  distances  over  the  surface  of  snow- 
fields,  all  made  up  of  microscopic  animals.  The  polyp  alone 
is  supposed  by  naturalists  to  be  stronger  in  individuals,  than 
insects  which  contain  one  hundred  thousand  different  species, 
and  each  species  equal,  perhaps,  to  the  human  population  of 
the  globe  a  million  of  times  told.  You  have  but  to  take  up 
anywhere  one  or  two  drops  of  water,  and  you  find  it  peopled, 
not  only  with  many  different  individuals,  but  with  many  sep- 
arate species.  It  is  computed  that  eighty  millions  of  these 
animalcules  could  live  in  a  single  drop  of  water,  and  yet  each 
of  these  myriads  came  forth  from  the  hand  of  God.  He 
hath  set  members  in  their  bodies  as  it  hath  pleased  Him. 
They  all  wait  on  Him,  and  He  giveth  them  their  meat  in  due 
season. 

{Ji)  Yet  these  are  but  parts  of  his  ways.  We  get  a  most 
inadequate  conception  of  Divine  power  as  manifested  in  the 
multiplication  of  living  creatures,  if  we  do  not  look  beyond 
tJie  actual  to  the  potential  energy  of  the  vital  force, — beyond  the 
multiplication  which  it  does  occasion  to  that  which  it  might 
occasion  under  other  circumstances  ;  or,  in  other  words,  to 
know  what  God  can  do  through  the  agency  of  life,  we  must 
consider  not  only  the  beings  that  do  live,  but  those  that  might 
live.  A  great  Botanist,  Mirbel,*  when  speaking  of  the  deso- 
lation of  winter,  as  if  life  were  extinct,  says,  "  Such  is  the 
prodigal  fertility  of  nature  that  a  surface  one  thousand  times 
the  extent  of  our  whole  globe  would  not  suffice  for  the  seed- 
harvest  of  a  single  year,  provided  the  whole  was  suffered  to 
reappear."  This  estimate  will  hardly  be  thought  extravagant, 
if  we  consider  for  a  moment  the  almost  boundless  fecundity 
of  vegetable  life.  One  thistle  produces  sixteen  thousand  seeds, 
and  one  poppy-seed  has  been  known  to  produce  thiity-two 
thousand  seeds ;  and  these  are  not  among  the  most  prolific. 
Of  the  seeds   that  disappear,  many  perish,  doubtless,  in  the 


*  See  paper  by  him  in  Brande's  Journal,  vol.  iv. 


256  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

severity  of  winter  ;  many  are  consumed  by  animals,  and  many 
become  buried  in  the  earth,  where  they  He  dormant  till  favor- 
ing physical  circumstances  shall  rouse  their  energies.  To 
whatever  depth  we  excavate  the  earth  for  wells  or  houses,  the 
soil  thrown  up  is  generally  charged  with  living  seeds,  which 
soon  germinate  and  start  forth  into  vigorous  plants.  That  the 
earth  is  thus  teeming  with  the  vital  power  of  vegetable  germs, 
ready  to  burst  forth  and  equal  to  the  exertion  (if  it  were  all 
liberated  suddenly  and  simultaneously)  of  volcanic  force,  will 
be  apparent  to  any  who  has  noticed  with  what  difficulty  the 
gardener  or  husbandman  keeps  down  the  weeds  which  spring 
spontaneously  from  seed  of  Nature's  planting,  and  which,  but 
for  the  warfare  he  wages,  would  soon  stifle  all  his  hopes  of 
harvest.  Indeed,  much  of  the  agency  of  the  husbandman 
consists  in  substituting  one  form  of  life  for  another,  and  often 
its  less  prolific  forms  for  those  more  prolific.  And  then  con- 
sider what  destruction  there  is  of  the  seed  that  man  raises 
by  laborious  effort.  In  the  cereal  plants,  for  example,  which 
include  all  our  grains  as"  well  as  grasses,  but  a  small  propor 
tion  of  the  seed-harvest  of  any  year  is  allowed  to  return  to 
the  earth.  The  reaper  is  careful  to  put  in  his  sickle  before 
the  time  has  come  for  the  seed  to  fall.  That  seed  gives  to  the 
grasses  their  principal  value  as  food  for  cattle,  and  to  the  grains 
their  only  value  as  food  for  man.  What  forms  the  staff  of 
life  to  nine-tenths  of  the  human  family,  but  the  surplus  seed 
of  annual  plants  remaining  over  and  above  what  is  needed  to 
replace  the  harvest  of  the  preceding  year  ? 

As  with  plants,  so  with  animals ;  the  fecundity  of  many 
species  is  marvellous.  One  flesh-fly  will  produce  twenty 
thousand  at  a  birth.  One  house-fly  will  give  birth  to  twenty 
million  in  thccourseof  ayear.  Of  the  aphides,  or  plant-lice,  one 
will  (according  to  Reaumur),  in  five  generations,  become  the 
progenitor  of  nearly  six  billions  of  descendants  ;  and  it  is  sup- 
posed that  in  one  year  there  may  be  twenty  generations.  The 
loe  of  the  cod  and  the  flounder  has  been  found  to  contain,  in 


LIFE-POWER  ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE  POWER.     257 

some  instances,  more  than  a  million  ova.  We  are  not,  then, 
to  wonder  at  the  desolations  which  have  been  effected  by 
the  combined  agency  of  the  most  insignificant  insects.  The 
aphides  have,  on  two  separate  occasions,  destroyed  the  hop 
crop  of  Great  Britain.  We  all  know  how  the  locust  has 
converted  fruitful  fields  into  a  desert  waste ;  and  every  year 
we  hear  of  the  ravages  which  the  weavel,  or  some  other  in- 
sect, has  committed  on  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  causing  man — 
its  lord  —  to  tremble  in  fear  of  famine.  "  Is  any  plant  or  ani- 
mal likely,"  says  Lyell,  "  to  monopolize  a  place  or  dead  body 
to  taint  the  air,  a  scanty  number  of  minute  individuals  (in- 
sects), only  to  be  detected  by  a  careful  research,  are  ready 
(such  is  the  power  of  suddenly  multiplying  their  numbers)  to 
give  birth  to  myriads,  which  will  operate  as  quick  destroyers. 
But  no  sooner  has  the  destroying  commission  been  executed 
than  the  gigantic  power  becomes  dormant ;  each  of  the  mighty 
host  soon  reaches  the  term  of  its  transient  existence,  and  the 
season  arrives  when  the  whole  species  passes  naturally  into 
the  &<g^,  and  thence  into  the  larva  or  pupa  state.  In  this  de- 
fenceless condition  it  may  be  destroyed  either  by  the  elements 
or  by  the  augmentation  of  some  of  its  numerous  foes,  or  the 
following  year  may  be  unfavorable  to  hatching  the  ^^^  or 
developing  the  pupae."  Is  it  not  well  that  He  who  holds  the 
waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  and  the  winds  in  his  fist, 
holds  sway,  too,  over  this  fearful  potential  energy  of  life,  and 
that,  having  been  appointed  by  Him  to  its  rightful  office,  it  is 
bidden  now  to  be  quiescent, — now  to  burst  forth  with  resist- 
less power  ? 

(c)  Even  life,  thus  viewed,  in  its  actual  and  potential  mani- 
festations combined,  forms  but  a  part  of  God's  ways  in  this 
department  of  his  creation.  To  these  we  must  add  the  mani-. 
festations  of  extinct  ox  fossil  life, — the  life  that  has  been.  When 
we  examine  the  crust  of  the  earth,  we  find  that  a  large  portion 
of  its  rocks  and  mineral  formations  is  composed  of  forms 
once  living  but  now  entombed.     Coal-fields  underlie   large 

17 


258 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


portions  of  the  United  States, — rising  in  some  cases  into 
mountain-chains,  which  arc  made  up  almost  entirely  of  the 
remains  of  vegetables.  In  Europe,  there  are  coal-fields  in 
which  one  hundred  and  twenty  seams  of  coal  lie  one  over 
another,  exclusive  of  a  host  of  smaller  scams,  and  some  of 
these  single  seams  of  coal  are  thirty,  and  others  more  than 
fifty,  feet  thick.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  too,  that  these  "  coal 
measures  are  indebted  for  no  inconsiderable  part  of  their  ma- 
terials not  to  the  trunks  of  mighty  trees,  but  to  small  grasses 
and  frondiferous  and  low  cryptogamic  vegetables."* 

Consider  also  the  atiinial  remains  which  are  piled  up  to  the 
depth  often  of  many  thousand  feet.  To  represent  the  globe 
as  a  mighty  sepulchre  is  not  poetry,  but  simple  history. 
There  rest  in  its  bosom  not  buried  individuals  only,  but  buried 
races.  Even  as  low  as  the  Silurian  formations,  the  extinct 
species  lie  entombed  by  hundreds,  in  the  oolite  by  thousands, 
and  in  the  tertiary  by  thousands  on  thousands, — beings  mostly 
different  from  any  now  existing,  which  have  passed,  race  after 
race,  to  the  catacombs  of  nature.  Of  the  aggregate  of  life 
which  has  teemed  over  the  globe  in  past  geological  epochs, 
we  can,  of  course,  know  nothing  precisely ;  but  a  few  facts 
like  these,  which  I  proceed  to  state,  may  aid  us  in  forming 
some  vague  conception.  Great  masses  of  rock  and  mineral 
are  composed  entirely  of  the  preserved  or  petrified  shields  of 
animalcules  of  extreme  minuteness.  Bog-iron  ore,  for  example, 
is  composed  of  the  ferruginous  shields  of  one  species ;  the 
Bilin  polishing  slate  of  Prussia  (some  fourteen  feet  in  thick- 
ness) is  composed  of  the  siliceous  shields  of  another  species, 
so  small  that  forty-one  billions  are  contained  in  a  cubic  inch  ; 
the  cities  of  Richmond  and  Petersburg,  in  Virginia,  stand  on 
an  extensive  formation,  several  yards  in  thickness,  and  made 
up  of  various  kinds  of  marine  infusoria;  while  "the  mountain 
limestone,  about  a  thousand  feet  thick,  and  often  many  miles 


Humboldt's  Cosmos. 


LIFE-POWER  ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE   POWER.     259 

in  length  and  breadth,  consists  of  nothing  else  than  the  re- 
mains of  coralline  and  testaceous  forms,  compressed  into  hard 
masses." 

2.  But  from  the  energy  of  Life,  as  manifested  in  the  multi- 
plication of  living  or  extinct  organisms,  let  us  turn  to  the 
energy  which  it  displays  in  zvitJistanding  and  subduing  oppos- 
ing forces.  Deprive  an  individual  plant  or  animal  of  life,  and 
how  quickly  does  it  decay  and  putrefy ;  its  constituent  ele- 
ments hastening  to  abandon  the  state  of  unstable  equilibrium 
in  which  they  have  been  imprisoned,  and  returning  to  chemi- 
cal conditions  congenial  to  their  physical  properties!  Life  is 
the  power  which  has  thus  mastered  them,  and  bound  them 
temporarily,  as  it  were,  in  chains.  So  long  as  the  vital  princi- 
ple animates  the  organism,  it  can  overpower  some  of  the 
strongest  affinities  and  some  of  the  most  refractory  substances 
in  nature.  It  solidifies  gases.  It  digests  limestone  and  flints. 
It  brings  together  from  earth,  air,  and  water  the  most  hetero- 
geneous and  inflexible  elements,  and  transmutes  them  into  its 
own  living  substance, — in  plants,  transforming  all  into  sap, 
and  from  that  sap  assimilating  some  into  fibre,  some  into  gum, 
some  into  resin,  some  into  oil,  some  into  sugar,  some  into 
bark;  in  animals,  digesting  every  kind  of  food  into  blood, 
and  from  it  extracting  bone  for  one  part,  muscular  fibre  for 
another,  nervous  matter  for  another,  gelatinous  matter  for 
another,  albuminous  for  another. 

Consider,  too,  the  hostile  physical  pozvers,  in  spite  of  which 
life  maintains  itself  There  is  hardly  a  limit,  a  barrier,  which 
men  have  been  accustomed  to  set  to  the  onward  and  trium- 
phant mSrch  of  vital  power,  which  it  does  not  pass.  It  is  so 
with  the  limit  of  cold,  of  heat,  of  light,  of  moisture,  of  ster- 
ility. It  was  once  thought  that  plants  could  not  grow,  at  least 
could  acquire  no  color,  without  light ;  yet  at  the  depth  of  more 
than  one  thousand  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  sea,  where 
the  darkness  must  be  as  dense  as  midnight,  plants  not  only 
grow,  forests  not  only  wave,  but  they  acquire  a  vivid  green 


26o  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

hue;  and  nine  hundred  species  of  intestinal  animals  live  in 
the  interior  of  other  animals.  It  was  once  supposed  that  ani- 
mal life  could  hardly  be  maintained  by  natural  means  beyond 
certain  lines  of  latitude ;  yet,  in  the  neighborhood  of  either 
polcy  "  far  beyond  where  larger  animals  have  ceased  to  exist, 
and  in  the  residuum  of  melted  ice  which  floats  as  high  as  lat. 
78°  10',  new  varieties  of  invisibly  minute  microscopic  animals 
have  been  found,"*  not  only  alive,  but  contending  success- 
fully with  the  intense  cold.  In  our  own  winters,  though  life 
in  trees  seems  extinct,  it  is  still  there,  as  the  returning  resur- 
rection of  springtime  testifies ;  and  even  when  it  seems  most 
dormant  in  midwinter,  "new  fibres  are  forming  at  the  roots, 
a  slight  progression  of  sap  is  going  on,  and  a  trifling  enlarge- 
ment of  the  buds  is  taking  place."  It  was  once  believed  by 
all  that  no  living  organism  could  long  exist  in  a  heat  above 
150°  F.,  or  when  wholly  deprived  of  moisture;  and  yet  the 
acari  live  in  boiling  water  as  well  as  in  scathing  alcohol ;  and 
the  rotifer,  or  wheel  animalcule,  whose  element  is  water  and 
air,  has  been  revived,  as  observed  before,  after  having  been 
dried  for  twenty-eight  days  in  vacuo  and  subjected  to  a  heat 
of  248'^  F.,  mixed  with  oil  of  vitriol.  On  the  quartz  rock, 
which  not  even  the  mechanical  and  chemical  action  of  the  ele- 
ments can  dissolve  without  the  greatest  difficulty,  the  spore 
of  the  lichen  fastens  itself,  takes  root,  grows,  and  gradually 
breaks  up  the  solid  mass.  Seeds  have  germinated  that  were 
taken  from  an  Egyptian  mummy  nearly  four  thousand  years, 
old,  and  from  the  stomach  of  a  man  buried  under  a  Roman 
barrow  nearly  two  thousand  years  ago ;  and  cases  are  on 
record  where  germination  has  started  up  from  seeds  that  must 
have  been  planted  (it  would  seem)  before  man  was  an  inhab- 
itant of  our  Earth. t  In  some  species  even  the  developed 
plant  seems  to  be  endowed  with  an  almost  deathless  vitality. 
The  cedars  of  Lebanon  have  been  standing  for  three  thousand 

*  Humboldt's  Cosmos.  f  Caqjenter's  Physiology. 


LIFE-POWER   ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE   POWER.     26 1 

years  ;  and  the  traveller  of  our  day  is  allowed,  perhaps,  to  gaze 
on  some  of  the  very  plants  which  were  observed  and  studied  by 
him  who  spake  of  "  trees  from  the  cedar-tree  that  is  in  Leb- 
anon, even  unto  the  hyssop  that  springeth  out  of  the  wall." 
In  South  America  there  are  trees,  such  as  the  baobab,  which 
are  supposed  to  have  attained  the  age  of  five  thousand  years, 
and  to  have  stood  unharmed  amidst  the  war  of  elements, 
while  kingdoms  have  risen,  and  ruled,  and  perished,  and  un- 
numbered generations  of  the  mighty  men  of  war  have  gone 
the  way  of  all  the  earth.  Even  where  the  individual  dies,  and 
dies  soon,  he  does  not  do  it  without  detaching  from  his  body 
a  portion  of  himself,  endowed  with  the  germ  of  another  like 
individual,  perhaps  of  many  such  ;  so  that,  though  he  disap- 
pear, he  leaves  behind  him  an  unbroken  stream  of  vital  power, 
which  flows  on  with  a  might  which  no  natural  causes  can 
withstand.  All  our  living  species  are  not  less  than  six  thou- 
sand years  old.  It  is  doubtful  whether  one  of  those  that 
lived  when  the  great  Progenitor  of  the  human  race  was  created, 
has  perished.  It  is  thought  that  many  now  living  must  have 
lived  through  all  preceding  geological  epochs,  back  even  to 
the  time  when  animal  life  first  appeared  on  the  earth,  and 
when  species,  whose  fossil  remains  lie  entombed  beneath 
us,  became  extinct.  "  Their  death,"  says  Owen,  "  seems  to 
have  been  a  violent,  rather  than  a  natural,  one ;  thus  intimating 
that  as  it  required  a  God  to  create,  so  does  it  require  a  God 
to  destroy  a  living  species."  "  We  have,"  he  adds,  "  no  ex- 
perience of  the  extinction  of  a  species  by  a  gradual  abroga- 
tion of  the  procreative  powers  in  the  individuals  of  successive 
generations." 

3.  A  third  criterion  by  which  we  may  estimate  the  power  of 
the  Orator,  as  set  forth  thro?/gh  life,  or  vital  processes,  is  a 
physical  one.  We  will  confine  our  illustrations  here  to  the 
mechanical  power  of  Life,  to  what  may  be  called  Vital  Dy- 
namics. 

I.  Consider  the  mechanical  power  exerted  by  the  vital prin- 


252  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

ciple  in  Plants.  It  has  been  ascertained  by  careful  experiment 
that  the  force  with  which  sap  ascends  in  the  trunk  of  a  pear-tree 
is  sufficient  to  balace  a  column  of  mercury  thirty-eight  inches  in 
height.  The  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  can  balance  a  column 
of  mercury  twenty-eight  to  thirty  inches  in  height,  so  that  the 
upward  pressure  of  sap  is  nearly  one-fourth  greater  than  the 
upward  pressure  of  the  atmosphere.  But  what  weights  may 
not  be  supported  by  this  last  force,  which  is  equivalent  to  a 
pressure  of  about  fifteen  pounds  to  the  square  inch !  It  raises, 
for  example,  and  keeps  suspended  in  mid-air,  all  the  clouds 
which  curtain  this  our  earthly  habitation,  and  from  which  our 
rain  descends.  It  has  been  computed  by  philosophers  that 
were  the  clouds  which  are  thus  raised,  silently  and  with- 
out disturbance  each  year,  required  to  be  raised  by  human 
strength,  it  would  tax  the  efforts  of  all  the  human  race  for 
a  period  of  two  hundred  thousand  years.  Extravagant  as 
this  estimate  may  appear  at  first  sight,  it  will  appear  less  so 
if  we  .consider  that  the  rain  discharged  annually  from  these 
clouds  (which  represents  of  course  an  equivalent  weight)  falls 
over  the  whole  globe  to  an  average  depth  of  thirty  inches ;  so 
that  a  hollow  sphere  of  the  diameter  of  the  earth,  and  thirty 
inches  in  thickness  of  the  specific  gravity  of  water,  would 
be  the  weight  to  be  raised  and  held  suspended  in  the  air  at 
the  usual  height  of  clouds.  It  required  one  hundred  thousand 
men  twenty  years  (aided  doubtless  by  machinery)  to  build 
the  great  pyramid  of  Egypt.  But  what  were  the  masses  thus 
raised  to  those  which  we  find  raised  by  the  vital  energies 
of  the  ascending  sap  and  the  absorbing,  digesting  leaf! 
Every  forest  is  a  forest  of  Nature's  pyramids.  Not  only  the 
mighty  masses  that  stand  from  year  to  year,  and  from  age  to 
age,  but  the  leaves  and  branches  and  annual  plants  that  have 
fallen,  all  must  be  embraced  when  we  would  reckon  the  me- 
chanical effects  produced. 

Take  annual  plants  alone.     Look  at  the  earth  at  the  open- 
ing of  Spring ;  when  all   is  yet  a  waste,  innumerable  seeds, 


LIFE-POWER   ILLUSTRATIVE    OF  DIVINE  POWER. 


263 


some  deposited  by  man,  some  by  nature,  slumber  beneath 
the  clods.  They  soon  begin  to  shoot  forth  their  plumules, 
and,  as  they  do  it,  what  immense  masses  of  earth  are  silently 
uplifted  (with  an  all  but  resistless  power)!  The  Corinthian 
capital  (it  is  said)  is  but  a  transcript  of  an  acanthus  forcing 
its  way  up  and  around  a  weight  which  had  been  laid  upon  it- 
Hardly  any  soil  is  so  impervious  but  the  tender  shoot  will 
force  its  way  towards  the  light  and  heat.  In  a  few  months 
what  teeming  abundance,  what  matted  masses  of  vegetable 
matter,  are  found  waving  over  the  fields  and  through  the  wil- 
dernesses lately  so  sterile !  The  ships  of  commerce,  which 
are  ploughing  every  sea  and  thronging  every  port,  find  a 
large  portion  of  their  freight  in  the  seeds  and  seed-vessels  ivldcJi 
are  the  grozvth  of  a  single  season,  and  these,  be  it  remembered, 
are  the  least  cumbrous  and  weighty  parts  of  the  plants  from 
which  they  are  taken ;  and  those  plants  again  form  a  most 
insignificant  fraction,  when  compared  with  the  masses  of 
spontaneous  vegetation  which,  during  the  same  period,  have 
been  reared  on  high  and  sustained  in  spite  of  gravity. 

2.  From  vegetable  turn  to  Animal  Mechanics,*  and,  ist,  to 
the  force  exerted  by  the  involuntary  or  vital  organs.  Take,  for 
example,  the  human  heart.  It  contracts  with  a  force  of  six 
pounds  to  the  square  inch,  which  is  ten  by  six  for  the  whole 
interior  surface,  or  a  force  equivalent  to  sixty  pounds  in  weight. 
These  contractions  are  repeated  four  thousand  times  in  an 
hour,  or  nearly  one  hundred  thousand  times  in  a  day.  Mul- 
tiply one  hundred  thousand  pounds  by  sixty,  and  you  get  a 
force  of  six  millions  of  pounds  for  the  mechanical  force  exerted 
by  these  pulpitating  hearts  of  ours  in  every  twenty-four  hours. 
In  other  words,  if  all  these  separate  contractile  efforts  could 
be  condensed  into  one  mechanical  effort,  it  would  be  sufficient 


*  The  coral  reefs,  from  three  to  seven  hundred  miles  in  length,  are  formed 
by  animals  who  are  thus  reversing  the  effect  produced  by  the  degradation  of 
mountains. 


264  ^-^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

to  lift  from  the  earth  a  mass  of  rock  equal  to  six  millions 
of  pounds. 

If  this  licart-ivork  of  one  individual  be  multiplied  by  the 
number  of  inhabitants  on  the  whole  globe,  we  then  get  an 
aggregate  of  six  thousand  billions  of  pounds  to  represent  tJic 
diurnal  he art-zvork  of  the  human  family.  And  the  heart  is  but 
one  of  many  organs  in  man,  and  man  is  but  one  of  nearly  a 
million — nay,  of  more  than  a  million — of  species  of  animals.  To 
the  involuntary  and  never-ceasing  motion  of  animals,  too,  we 
must  add  their  voluntary  and  intermitted  motions.  Busy  in- 
sects, ever  on  the  wing  during  their  waking  hours  ;  fishes,  ever 
in  quest  of  prey  or  escaping  from  hungry  pursuers,  or  rioting 
in  sport ;  birds,  reptiles,  quadrupeds,  all  seeking  food,  shelter, 
and  enjoyment ;  man,  ever  active,  never  satisfied, — man  that 
goeth  to  his  work  and  to  his  labor  until  the  evening, — here  is 
an  aggregate  of  Dynamic  Power  put  forth  by  Life,  between 
every  rising  and  every  setting  sun,  which  may  well  lead  our 
thoughts  towards  Him  who  is  the  Author  and  Upholder 
of  it. 

3.  And  look,  in  conclusion,  at  the  mechanical  power  put 
{ort\\  by  the  extinct  life  of  vegetables.  Look  at  that  great  in- 
strument of  modern  civilization, — the  Steam-Engine, — every- 
where at  work,  and  wonder-working  everywhere.  It  is  in  the 
mill  and  in  the  factory;  on  the  highway  and  at  sea;  at  the 
bottom  of  deep  mines  and  on  the  heights  of  mountains.  It 
excavates  ore ;  it  helps  to  purify  and  prepare  it  for  use  ;  it 
bears  it  to  the  artisan ;  it  beats,  and  rolls,  and  presses,  and 
draws  it.  It  spins  yarn ;  it  weaves  cloth  ;  it  prints  books  ;  it 
bears  them,  and  all  other  fabrics,  over  the  land  and  over  the 
great  ocean  with  the  velocity  of  a  bird.  It  transports  letters, 
persons,  and  products,  bringing  distant  places  near,  bridging 
over  half  the  sea,  and  achieving,  in  short,  changes  as  rapid  as 
they  are  great.  Now,  what  is  the  moving-power  here  ?  What 
gives  to  this  instrument  its  amazing  value  and  efficiency? 
Has  it  ever  occurred  to  us  that  it  is  the  Poivcr  of  Life? 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    LIFE-POWER  A   WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE  WISDOM. 

HAVING  attempted  in  the  last  chapter  some  sketches  of 
the  Creator's  PozvcrdiS  manifested  in  the  multiphcity  of 
hving  creatures, — in  their  power  of  withstanding  the  causes 
that  tend  to  decay  and  dissolution,  and  in  the  mechanical  and 
chemical  forces  which  Life  exerts  in  building  up  plants  and  in 
maintaining  the  functions,  voluntary  and  involuntary,  of  ani- 
mals,— we  proceed  in  this  chapter  to  present  some  views  of  the 
Creator's  Wisdom  as  indicated  in  the  Laws  of  Life. 

Life  has  its  Lazvs.  It  is  not  only  a  mighty  power,  it  is  also  a 
law-abiding  and  a  law-upholding  power.  This  fact  meets  us 
whenever  we  look  at  plants  or  animals.  We  cannot  meet  with 
an  individual  specimen  that  we  do  not  expect  to  find  it  charac- 
terized by  certain  marks,  conformed  to  a  certain  type  or  model ; 
the  notion  of  which  has  been  suggested  to  us  by  our  previous 
experience.  This  expectation  embraces  both  the  structure  and 
th.e  functions  of  the  organized  being.  In  respect  to  each  of 
these,  we  expect  to  find  it  regulated  by  a  certain  rule  which 
represents  what  is  called  its  normal  state ;  and  by  the  appli- 
cation of  which  we  at  once  determine  whether  it  be  conforma- 
ble or  non-conformable  as  to  structure,  healthy  or  diseased  as 
to  functions.  Here,  then,  is  a  distinction  among  living  and 
organized  beings  which  is  unknown  in  the  inorganic  world. 
We  never  think  of  speaking  of  a  stone  as  being  in  the  normal 
or  the  abnormal  state.  In  their  physical  properties  unorgan- 
ized bodies  never  depart  from  their  natural  type,  so  that  there 
can  be  in  physical  science  no  department  "  which  holds  the 

^      (  265  ) 


266  THE    THREE    WITNESSES 

place  of  therapeutics  in  physiology."*  It  is  only  among  liv- 
ing bodies  that  we  are  met  by  the  notion  of  disease,  and  this 
because  we  have  in  respect  to  them  a  previous  notion  of  some 
rule  to  be  observed  or  idea  to  be  worked  out  by  means  of  a 
subjective  power  in  the  plant  or  animal  itself, — working  from 
within,  not  acting  from  without;  a  power,  however,  which 
does  not  work  by  its  own  sagacity,  but  by  the  sagacity  of 
some  higher  agency,  which  superintends  and  directs  it.  It  is 
midway  between  a  machine,  where  both  the  power  and  the 
intelligence  that  direct  it  are  from  without,  and  a  man  whose 
voluntary  actions  are  predetermined  by  his  own  will,  as  well 
as,  in  one  sense,  performed  by  his  own  power. 

In  the  existence,  then,  of  tJiis  type  to  be  observed  or  this 
plan  to  be  worked  out,  we  have  proof  that  living  creatures  are 
the  work  of  an  intelligent  first  cause,  who,  in  constituting  each 
species,  whether  of  plant  or  animal,  has  proposed  to  Himself 
some  idea  or  end  to  be  attained.  Now,  the  degree  of  wisdom 
which  may  be  predicated  of  this  First  Cause,  can  be  inferred 
from  the  character  of  the  Laws  He  has  established  for  the 
govcr'iivient  of  Life. 

1.  Are  these  laws  of  Life  indicativ^e  of  a  settled,  constant 
purpose, — one  which  is  maintained  alike  without  caprice  and 
without  stubbornness, — a  purpose  which,  on  the  one  hand, 
does  not  change  to  suit  every  change  of  circumstances, 
nor,  on  the  other  hand,  maintain  itself  with  inflexible  and 
undistinguishing  tenacity  like  the  Laws  of  the  Medes  and 
Persians? 

2.  Are  they  indicative  of  an  afflnent,  exuberant  wisdom  which 
abounds  in  diversified  displays  of  its  resources,  and  which 
seems  to  have  attained  at  once  substantial  uniformity  and  in- 
exhaustible variety,  —  endless  diversity  of  means  combined 
with  prevailing  unity  of  plan  and  operation  ? 

3.  Are  they  characterized  by  the  selection  of  worthy  oids, 

*  Bichat. 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM. 


267 


and  of  means  precisely  adapted  to  the  attainment  of  those 
ends? 

These  are  the  criteria  by  which  we  estimate  the  wisdom  of 
human  agents-,  and  we  are  obliged  by  the  constitution  of  our 
minds  to  extend  it  to  our  judgment  of  any  and  every  Intel- 
ligent agent  whatever. 

I.    CONSTANCY   OF    PURPOSE. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  are  the  laws  of  Life  distinguished 
by  regularity  and  constancy  ?  In  other  words,  are  individuals 
(whether  plants  or  animals)  usually  conformed  to  the  type  of 
their  species,  both  in  respect  to  their  structure  and  their 
functions  ?  Few  things  are  more  striking  than  the  immense 
disproportion  which  exists  between  the  normal  and  abnormal 
organic  structures  that  present  themselves  to  our  view,  and 
the  disproportion  is  scarcely  less  between  the  healthy  and  the 
diseased y}/«^//<9//5.  Look  at  any  tribes  (vegetable  or  animal), 
and  how  rarely  do  we  meet  malformations, — deformed  mon- 
sters who  come  into  the  world  curtailed,  in  any  important 
respect,  of  their  fair  proportions !  Even  where  such  cases  do 
occur,  they  can  be  traced,  in  many  instances,  and  probably 
will  be  hereafter  traced  in  all,  to  disturbing  causes,  which  have 
arrested  the  process  of  development. 

So  with  diseased,  morbid,  or  abnormal  conditions  of  the 
functions.  Health  is  the  great  law, — disease  the  exception. 
And,  what  is  well  worthy  of  remark,  both  plants  and  animals, 
as  we  recede  from  the  artificial  state  induced  by  man's  self- 
determined  but  often  disturbing  agency,  seem  to  be  less  and 
less  liable  to  disease.  The  maladies  to  which  our  own  kind 
are  liable  seem,  in  most  instances,  to  be  either  self-induced 
through  ignorance  or  wilful  transgression,  or  they  are  the 
sore  legacy  bequeathed  to  us  by  our  ancestry.  And  even 
where  there  is  a  morbid  state  of  the  organism,  observe,  i, 
with  what  spontaneous  and  active  energy  it  seems  to  strive 


268  .  "^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

after  restoration  to  the  normal  state,  exerting  those  recuper- 
ative, self-adjusting  powers  which  are  the  great  hope  and  re- 
source of  every  wise  physician,  and  which  often  seem  almost 
sufficient  to  give  back  life  from  the  dead.  Observe,  2,  and 
especially  that  even  the  morbid  condition  itself  has  its  laws,  \X.s 
characteristic  marks,  and  processes.  It  is  on  this  constant 
character  and  cause  of  disease  that  Medical  Science  founds 
itself.  But  for  the  fact  that  a  certain  uniformity  prevails  over 
the  abnormal  conditions  of  the  animal  frame,  that  these  con- 
ditions admit  of  being  observed  and  classified,  and  their 
vicissitudes  foreseen,  we  could  have  neither  Nosology  nor 
Pathology. 

It  appears,  then,  that  Lazu  reigns  over  the  animated  world, 
—  law  stable  and  regular.  Our  own  organisms,  and  every 
other  organism  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  be  it  animal 
or  vegetable,  is  the  subject  of  established,  permanent  laws. 
This  fact  is  at  once  an  intimation  and  a  command, — an  inti- 
mation that,  since  law  reigns  in  the  domain  of  life,  we  are  to 
expect  it  still  more  in  the  domain  of  spirit  and  of  mind, — a 
command  that  we  are  to  study  the  Creator's  decrees,  whether 
physical,  physiological,  or  psychological,  and,  studying,  are 
to  respect  and  obey  them. 

Again,  if  we  extend  our  view  of  living  beings  beyond  the 
limit  of  personal  observation  to  irnioter  ^dLvts,  of  the  world,  we 
find  the  same  or  like  laws  obtaining.  Wherever  we  meet  an 
individual  belonging  to  a  certain  species  of  plants  or  animals, 
there  we  meet  the  same  essential  characteristics.  Much  of 
minor  diversity  there  will  be,  owing  to  climate,  soil,  situation, 
treatment,  and  parentage ;  but  amid  all  these  there  are  defi- 
nite and  significant  lines  which  remain  indelible.  The  dog, 
wherever  he  is  found,  whether  in  the  wild  or  in  the  domesti- 
cated state,  whatever  peculiarities  may  have  been  superin- 
duced, by  training  or  breeding,  is  still  a  dog.  He  is  neither  a 
cat  nor  a  lion, — he  neither  drops  from  a  higher  to  a  lower 
rank  of  species,  in  respect  to  his  instincts,  his  habits,  his  term 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM. 


269 


of  life,  his  mode  of  reproduction,  nor  does  he,  in  these  re- 
spects, mount  to  a  higher  rank.  It  is  thus  that  Science 
becomes  possible  in  Natural  History,  that  we  can  have  an 
intelligible  and  stable  Zoology  and  Botany.  Had  plants  and 
animals,  amidst  all  their  variations,  no  permanent  and  un- 
alterable characteristics,  they  could  not  be  described  scien- 
tifically, nor  could  any  general  or  fixed  conclusion  be  reached 
respecting  their  structure  and  functions. 

So,  if  we  trace  back  the  same  species  of  plants  through  past 
periods  of  time,  they  will  be  found  to  have  been  marked  al- 
ways by  the  same  characters.  From  the  catacombs  of  Egypt, 
— from  its  embalmed  remains  and  its  sculptured  walls, — from 
the  disinterred  memorials  of  ancient  Etruscan  life, — from  the 
ruins  of  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii, —  from  the  venerable 
monuments  of  Athens  and  Rome, — from  ancient  poets,  his- 
torians, and  especially  from  ancient  naturalists,  such  as  Aris- 
totle, Pliny,  and  Theophrastus, — we  are  able  to  obtain  speci- 
mens, models,  pictures,  or  descriptions, — hints,  through  the 
aid  of  which  we  can  reproduce,  as  it  were,  the  organisms  of 
the  past,  and  compare  them  with  those  of  the  present.  The 
same  species  are  found  to  have  existed  then  as  now,  and  to 
have  exhibited  everywhere  the  same  specific  marks.  There 
is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  wheat  of  Egypt  was  dis- 
tinguished four  thousand  years  ago  from  other  grains  by  the 
same  specific  differences  as  distinguish  it  at  present.  So  with 
its  men  and  other  animals.  Birds  rose  and  sang,  carolline 
each  its  own  notes,  in  its  own  key,  then  as  now.  From 
Northern  and  Southern  Polar  regions  they  then,  as  now,  took 
their  course  towards  the  sunny  tropics  at  the  approach  of 
winter,  crossing  the  sea  always  by  its  narrowest  arms,  and 
following  the  guidance  of  the  eldest  and  most  experienced  of 
the  flocks.  Then,  as  now,  the  tulip  put  forth  its  own  fragrance, 
and  with  it  a  heat  four  and  a  half  degrees  higher  than  that 
atmosphere.  Then,  as  now,  the  blood  of  every  forty-two 
men  may  be  assumed  to  have  contained,  as  it  does  now,  "  iron 


2/0 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


enough  to  make  a  ploughshare;"  the  human  lungs  contained 
"a  coil  of  vital  matter  one  hundred  and  fifty-nine  feet  square," 
and  at  each  inspiration  seventeen  cubic  inches  of  air  were 
consumed. 

Look  at  the  vivid  sketches  of  plants  and  animals  scattered 
through  the  Old  Testament.  They  were  written  from  two  to 
four  thousand  years  ago ;  they  are  merely  incidental  notices, 
such  only  as  a  poet,  moralist,  or  historian  would  naturally 
give  whilst  bent  on  his  main  object;  they  deal  only  with 
those  palpable  (as  distinguished  from  scientific)  characters 
which  would  strike  the  apprehension  and  rouse  the  interest 
of  ordinary  readers.  Judged  by  these  principles,  they  prove 
to  be  eminently  true  to  Nature,  if  we  suppose  Nature  to  have 
been,  meanwhile,  constant  to  herself  Nowhere  are  the 
habits  and  peculiarities  of  Oriental  animals  and  plants  touched 
with  such  force  and  fidelity.  Even  where  an  animal  is  se- 
lected (as  was  the  case  with  the  lions  into  whose  den  Daniel 
was  cast)  to  be  an  immediate  minister  of  God's  miraculous 
purposes,  there  his  instincts  may  be  suspended  in  some  re- 
spects, but  in  others  they  remain  intact,  and  while  true  to 
their  mission,  they  are  true  also  to  their  nature.  So  it  is 
throughout  the  Bible,  and  the  fact  suggests  to  us  one  or  two 
important  considerations  bearing  on  the  credibility  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testament.  Either  the  sacred  writers  saw  what 
they  portrayed,  and  described  it  with  pre-eminent  truth  and 
effect,  in  which  case  their  fidelity  in  this  one  instance  becomes 
a  guarantee  for  their  fidelity  in  others,  or  they  drew  these 
sketches  without  having  seen  the  originals,  in  which  case 
the  wonderful  power  of  delineation  evinced  by  them  can  be 
ascribed  to  nothing  short  of  inspiration. 

Should  we  carry  our  examination  of  organized  beings  back 
to  a  period  anterior  to  the  introduction  of  man  on  the  globe, — 
should  we  scrutinize  the  vegetable  and  animal  remains  that  lie 
entombed  in  the  various  geological  formations, — we  shall  there 
find    evidence   of  the   same  constancy  in   the   Laws   of  Life. 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM. 


271 


Wherever  fossil  and  living  races  can  be  referred  to  the  same 
species,  the  identity  is  as  complete  as  though  both  belonged 
to  the  same  era.  Where  the  fossil  species  represent  animals 
or  vegetables  that  are  now  extinct,  they  have  two  character- 
istics, which  point  significantly  to  the  permanency  and  regu- 
larity of  organic  laws.  The  first  is,  that,  however  dissimilar 
the  species  may  be  in  some  respects,  they  still  have  enough 
in  common  to  indicate  the  prevalence  of  the  same  creative 
mind.  This  is  a  point  to  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
refer  hereafter. 

The  other  characteristic  of  extinct  fossils  is,  that  they  serve 
to  fill  up  chasms  in  the  great  scheme  of  Natural  History,  so 
that,  when  taken  in  connection  with  existing  species,  they  go 
to  impart  completeness  and  symmetry  to  it.  For  example, 
"  the  large  calamites  of  the  coal  formation  take  their  place  in 
an  existing  family,  Eqiiisetacccs.  The  fossil  lepidodendra,  of 
gigantic  stature,  are  intermediate  between  living  Lycopodi- 
aceae  and  Coniferae ;  and  even  the  extinct  Sigillaria  and  Stig- 
mariae,  of  which  no  living  representatives  exist,  find,  so  far  as 
the  details  of  their  organization  are  known,  a  definite  place 
among  existing  animals."*  It  is  so  with  the  fossil  remains 
of  animals.  Does  not  this  striking  fact  refer  us  to  the  Design 
of  a  vast  Intelligence,  which  forms  one  plan  and  one  purpose 
to  be  worked  out  through  immense  tracts  of  time,  and  which, 
however  modified  in  some  of  its  parts  or  minor  details,  is  still 
adhered  to  on  the  whole;  so  that  we  are  sure  that  we  stand  in 
presence  of  the  same  God,  whether  we  see  Him  creating  and 
destroying  an  extinct  species,  at  vast  intervals,  in  remote  geo- 
logical epochs,  or  whether  we  survey  Him  bringing  forth  and 
carrying  on  through  all  their  vicissitudes  the  species  that 
now  exist? 

The  fact  that  there  is  not  an  exact  progression  in  respect  to 
rank,  through  all  these  extinct  species,  up  to  those  now  in 

*  Harris's  Preadamite  Earth,  p.  189. 


272 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


being, — that  the  former  fall  into  breaks  and  chasms,  which  sepa- 
rate existing  families, — seems  only  to  increase  the  verisimili- 
tude, to  make  the  proof  of  design  more  clear  and  conclusive. 
How  would  it  be  with  a  human  artist  ?  How  does  a  great 
master  like  Raphael  or  Allston  work  out  his  conceptions  ? 
What  was  the  process  of  composition  of  that  noble  but  un- 
finished picture  which  the  last  of  these  artists  left  behind  him 
when  suddenly  removed  to  higher  efforts  of  his  creative 
genius  ?  With  one  great  idea  ever  before  him,  one  plan  ever 
essentially  the  same,  is  it  not  likely  that  he  would  work  now 
at  one  part,  now  at  another, — one  while  laboring  at  the  central 
figure, — then  turning  to  subordinate  details, — now  sketching 
outlines,  and  then  leaving  them  to  stand  long  before  they  are 
filled  out, — now  bringing  into  bold  relief  the  grand  lesson  to 
be  taught,  and  now  toiling  perhaps  for  weeks  at  the  hum- 
blest of  its  accessories  ?  To  an  ordinary  spectator,  unac- 
quainted as  well  with  the  art  as  with  the  self-prescribed  plan 
of  the  artist,  much  of  this  may  look  like  caprice  ;  but  to  him 
who  comprehends  that  plan,  and  who  understands  the  princi- 
ples on  which  the  artist  works,  all  will  seem  in  keeping,  and 
it  will  be  evident  that  constant  approaches  are  being  made 
towards  the  one  great  purpose. 

I.  {b)    INDICATIONS    OF    FREE    AND    INTELLIGENT    FORESIGHT. 

We  have  thus  traced  a  few  indications  of  the  constancj'  and 
nnifonfiity  of  the  Creator's  laws  of  Life  as  evidence  of  his 
Wisdom.  But  how  can  we  know  that  these  laws  are  not  the 
expression  of  a  surd  and  inflexible  necessity  which  has  for- 
ever reigned  over  all  sequences  and  all  phenomena,  whether 
in  the  organic  or  the  inorganic  world  ?  or,  how  know  we  that 
these  laws,  even  though  they  emanated  from  an  Intelligent 
First  Cause,  be  not  now,  as  from  the  beginning,  so  fixed  as  to 
preclude  even  his  own  interposition,  moving  forward  in  virtue 
of  their  own  inherent  though   derived  energy  ?     We  might 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM.     273 

answer,  that  such  a  supposition  involves  logical  and  ethical 
difificulties  of  a  most  unmanageable  kind.  But  there  are  in  the 
way  of  it,  also,  certain  physiological  difficulties,  which  we 
ought  to  refer  to  here. 

In  the  first  place,  both  systems  of  matter  or  of  material 
bodies  (organic  and  inorganic)  clearly  evince  the  presence  of 
choice, — the  selection  of  one  among  several  different  laws, — 
the  deliberate  act  of  a  free  and  self-determined  will.  As  in 
the  planetary  systems,  there  are  provisions  (such  as  the  earth's 
mass,  the  law  of  gravitation, — the  relation  of  equality  between 
the  motions  of  rotation  and  of  revolution)  for  which  there 
seems  to  be  no  necessity,  and  which  might,  therefore,  have 
been  otherwise,  so  it  is  in  the  organic  world  of  living  beings. 
We  can  see  no  necessary  reason  why  matter  in  one  class  of 
bodies  should  have  been  without  life  ;  in  a  second  (vegeta- 
bles), should  have  been  endowed  only  with  life ;  and  in 
a  third  (animal),  be  endowed  both  with  life  and  with  the 
power  of  sensation  and  of  voluntary  locomotion.  So  far  as 
we  can  understand,  there  was  no  absolute  necessity  that  ru- 
minating animals  should  have  cloven  hoofs ;  that  bees  should 
construct  their  cells  of  hexagonal  shapes ;  that  no  other  in- 
sect should  do  the  same.  Assume  that  there  was  design, — an 
Intelligent  First  Cause, — and  then  we  can  see  a  final  cause  for 
these  provisions,  though  we  can  discover  no  efficient  or  ne- 
cessary cause.  But,  in  the  absence  of  such  a  designing  mind, 
the  apparent  selection  seems  inexplicable.  That  selection, 
then,  is  indicative  of  a  sovereign  will  and  appointment,  more 
especially  when  we  take  it  in  connection  with  what  look  like 
intentional  deviation  from  the  prevailing  order  or  arrange- 
ment. Such  deviation  is  observed  in  the  celestial  system.  The 
satellites  of  Uranus  have  a  retrograde,  rather  than  a  direct, 
motion.  It  may  be  observed,  too,  in  the  vegetable  and  ani- 
mal worlds  ;  for  instance,  in  the  development  of  the  embryo 
of  a  vertebral  animal,  the  organs  first  laid  down  are  not  those 
that  belong  to   nutrition, — to  the  maintenance  of  life  (as  we 

18 


274 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES 


might  expect  on  the  principle  of  uniformity), — but  they  are  the 
organs  connected  with  the  nervous  system, — i.e.  with  the 
higher  powers  of  the  animal.  Again,  carry  deciduous  plants 
across  the  Equator,  and  in  spite  of  opposing  physical  causes, 
they  put  forth  their  leaves  at  the  approach  of  winter.  Or, 
again,  go  back  along  the  series  of  geological  formations,  and 
we  trace  in  all  of  them  the  plants  called  Conifcnc,  whereas  the 
Sigillaria,  their  companion,  in  the  first  exist  no  longer.  All 
this  looks  like  the  intervention  of  a  Sovereign  and  Intelligent 
Will,  breaking  up,  as  it  were,  the  routine  of  Nature ;  causing 
departures  from  the  usual  course  of  her  phenomena,  as  if  for 
the  very  purpose  of  proclaiming  his  own  presence  and  agency. 
And  this  consideration  becomes  more  weighty,  if  we  con- 
sider the  relation  between  organic  and  inorganic  bodies.  Ob- 
served separately,  both  evince  the  presence  of  contingency, — 
the  supreme  direction  of  an  Intelligent,  all-controlling  Will. 
Taken  together,  and  in  their  mutual  relations,  that  evidence 
becomes  still  more  impressive,  for  we  find  that  the  one  system 
is  fitted,  as  it  were  dovetailed,  in  a  most  remarkable  manner,  into 
the  other.  Plants  are  adapted,  by  their  size,  weight,  and  hard- 
ness, to  the  force  of  gravitation  and  of  wind  or  water ;  by  their 
leaves,  to  just  such  an  atmosphere,  in  respect  to  density  and 
chemical  constitution,  as  surrounds  them  ;  by  their  roots,  to  the 
soil  in  which  they  stand,  and  so  on.  Animals  are  adapted,  like- 
wise, to  the  force  of  gravity,  as  it  respects  their  magnitude,  their 
strength,  and  the  texture  of  their  bones ;  to  the  air,  by  the 
constitution  of  their  blood  and  lungs ;  to  water,  by  the  laws 
of  nutrition  and  assimilation ;  to  climate,  by  the  nature  of 
their  covering  and  food.  Can  anything  short  of  Intelligence — 
short,  we  had  almost  said,  of  Infinite  Intelligence — explain 
the.se  adaptations  ?  Here  are  beings  of  two  different  worlds 
brought  together,  each  bearing  clear  and  expressive  signs  of 
having  sprung  from  the  free  volitions  of  a  sovereign  will,  and 
they  are  found  to  correspond  to  each  other  in  a  manner  the 
most  exact  and  marvellous.     Shall  this  be  resolved  into  ne- 


LIFE-POWER   A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM.     275 

cessity  ?  Necessity  cannot  solve  the  problems  that  are  pre- 
sented by  the  properties  and  collocations  even  of  inorganic 
matter,  still  less  can  it  solve  those  which  belong  to  the  living 
organized  world,  whether  of  plants  or  of  animals.  Shall  it 
pretend,  then,  to  solve  the  yet  more  wondrous  fact  that,  with 
all  these  apparently  contingent  attributes,  each  should  be  so 
fitted  and  adjusted  to  the  other? 

Thus  do  we  seem  to  see,  in  the  Laxvs  of  Life,  clear  and 
incontestible  traces  of  a  designing  First  Cause.  Do  we  not 
see  more  ?  Is  there  not  evidence  in  these  same  laws  that  as 
they  were  first  established  by  an  Intelligent  Creator  so  are 
they  contingent  on  his  will,  and  therefore  liable  to  be  set  aside 
either  for  a  time  or  permanently?  In  how  many  cases  have 
new  species  made  their  appearance  on  the  globe  ?  In  how 
many  other  cases  have  pre-existent  species  been  destroyed? 
We  have  already  seen  that,  in  the  estimation  of  naturalists  most 
eminent  for  knowledge  and  philosophical  sagacity,  neither  of 
these  events  appear  to  take  place  without  the  intervention  of 
supernatural  power.  Here,  then,  are  fundamental  changes  in 
the  system  of  Life,  indicating  the  immediate  and  miraculous 
agency  of  God, — not  changes  which  betoken  departure  from 
great  purposes,  but  changes  subordinate  to  them,  inasmuch 
as  they  indicate  the  prevalence  of  the  same  ideas  and  prin- 
ciples,— seem  to  tend  towards  the  consummation  of  the  same 
plans,  and  serve,  above  all,  to  advance  the  one  grand  end  of 
keeping  alive  in  the  minds  of  intelligent  creatures  a  sense, 
deep  and  influential,  of  the  divine  and  supernatural, — of  a 
Power  above  nature,  ever  present,  ever  free  even  from  bond- 
age to  its  own  laws,  and  ever  acting  directly  on  our  welfare. 

Viewed  in  this  Y\'^\.,  miracles  in  the  physical  history  of  the 
globe  prepare  us  for  miracles  in  its  moral  history.  From  entries 
made  on  the  Records  of  Creation  we  are  pointed  forwards  to 
corresponding  entries  in  the  Records  of  Revelation.  From  gaz- 
ing on  monuments  of  creative  or  destroying  power  in  Nature, 
we  naturally  turn  to  gaze  on  like  monuments  in  Sacred  His- 


2/6 


THE    THREE    IVITXESSES. 


tory.  We  are  not  surprised  to  hear  that  a  flood  should  have 
been  sent  to  drown  the  world  of  the  ungodly;  for  even  before 
and  often  had  overflowing  torrents  been  commissioned  to 
sweep  from  the  earth  vast  tribes  of  living  things.  We  are 
not  surprised  to  read  that  "  God  should  raise  the  dead,"  for 
all  along  the  mighty  tracts  of  geological  time  are  memorials 
of  creating  and  re-creating  Power.  That  God  should  inter- 
pose supernatural  displays  of  his  power  before  man  seems 
not  unlikely,  if  He  had  already  made  them  previous  to  man's 
appearance  on  the  globe ;  and  thus  it  is  that  the  laws  of  life 
become,  in  respect  to  a  miraculous  Revelation,  what  Moses 
was  in  respect  to  the  yet  greater  Prophet, — even  a  "school- 
master to  lead  us  to  Christ." 

II.    EXUBERANCE    OF    CREATIVE   SKILL, 

We  have  now  seen  that  the  Laws  of  Life,  though  constant, 
seem  not  to  be  necessitated  ;  that  they  indicate  a  steady  but 
voluntary  adherence  to  the  same  principles,  through  periods 
so  vast  as  to  transcend  even  our  conceptions,  and  that  they 
thus  point  us  to  a  wise  and  faithful  Creator.  Let  us  inquire, 
in  the  next  place,  if  we  cannot  see  in  these  laws  indications 
of  an  exuberant  Wisdom,  which  never  seems  at  a  loss  for  new 
displays  of  its  power  and  fertility.  We  estimate  the  Intellectual 
resources  of  a  human  inventor  not  so  much  by  the  multi- 
plicity of  his  individual  works  as  by  their  variety,  by  the 
manifold  ways  in  which  he  puts  forth  his  powers.  Manner- 
ism, or  the  servile  repetition  of  the  same  methods,  the  con- 
stant reproduction  of  the  same  material  in  nearly  the  same 
forms,  we  regard  as  the  work  of  a  limited  capacity.  How  is 
it  in  this  respect  with  the  Creator's  Laws  of  Life?  That  they 
hav'c  great  constancy  as  to  tfme  or  duration,  and  a  prevailing 
uniformity  as  to  plan,  we  have  already  seen.  We  now  re- 
mark that,  while  the  fundamental  notes  are  the  same,  their 
combinations  and  variations  are  endlessly  diversified. 


LIFE-POWER   A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM     oil 

Look  first  at  the  same  species.  Within  the  Hmits  of  many 
of  them  (whether  vegetables  or  animals)  there  are  diversities 
without  number,  and  these  seem  destined  to  go  on  increasing 
forever.  No  two  individuals  of  the  same  species  are  perfectly 
similar  in  all  their  properties  and  accidents.  No  one  sees  two 
roses  precisely  alike  in  size,  figure,  number,  and  arrangement 
of  parts  ;  in  color,  odor,  or  other  particulars.  Who  believes 
that  any  rose  which  shall  bloom  hereafter,  through  all  time, 
will  in  each  one  of  these  respects  be  perfectly  similar  to  any 
one  which  has  ever  bloomed  heretofore  ?  So  with  any  two 
animals  of  the  same  species.  These  variations  are  to  be  re- 
ferred to  causes  and  laws  of  the  Creator's  appointment.  Some 
of  these  causes  we  can  discern ;  others,  in  the  present  state 
of  science,  are  undiscoverable.  Supposing  two  parents  to 
have  been  the  sole  progenitors  of  a  species  now  embracing 
numberless  individuals,  we  can  clearly  see  how  multitudinous 
variations  should  arise  (through  the  medium  of  principles 
which  God  has  put  into  operation). 

{a)  In  the  Jirst  place,  there  is  the  principle  of  hereditary 
transmission, — the  principle  that  the  offspring,  be  it  plant  or 
animal,  partakes  of  the  separate  characters  of  both  its  parents; 
so  that,  beside  the  specific  attributes  common  to  both,  it  shall 
have  properties  compounded  out  of  those  which  are  peculiar 
to  each.  Thus,  it  shall  have  the  sex  of  one  or  the  other, — it 
shall  have,  if  an  animal,  the  figure  of  one,  the  color,  perhaps, 
of  another  ;  the  nervous  sensibility  of  the  mother  coupled 
with  the  sex  and  vigor,  the  color  or  shape,  of  the  father.  There 
is  thus  diversity  between  parents  and  the  first  pair  of  their  off- 
spring. Other  causes  come  in  to  make  succeeding  offspring 
of  the  first  generation  different  from  the  eldest.  Not  only  are' 
the  general  characteristics  of  the  parents  reproduced  in  each 
of  the  offspring,  but  peculiarities  in  their  condition,  when  the 
reproductive  powers  are  excited, — such  as  the  state  of  health, 
of  structure  as  affected  by  food  or  temperature,  of  sensibility, 
if  the  parents  be  animals.     All  these,  and  many  more,  are 


2^8  ^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

causes  which  tend  to  induce  dissimilarity  even  among  the  im- 
mediate descendants  of  the  first  parents.  When  we  come  to 
these  descendants  again,  with  all  their  peculiarities,  and  con- 
sider them  as  reappearing  under  the  same,  and  perhaps  more 
varied,  influences  in  a  third,  fourth,  and  later  generations,  we 
see  how  provision  has  been  made  in  the  Laws  of  Life  foi  the 
boundless  multiplication  of  differences  in  individuals.  But  all 
these  differences  resulting  from  laws  of  God's  appointment  are 
so  many  expressions  of  his  inexhaustible  fertility. 

Observe,  however,  that  in  respect  even  to  these  diversities 
there  are  such  limits  as  to  preclude  confusion,  and  to  show 
that  the  Creator  never  loses  his  purpose  nor  forgets  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  He  works.  Within  the  bounds  of  a  species 
there  are  causes  which  tend  as  well  to  uniformity  as  to  diver- 
sity. T/ie  law  of  hereditary  transmission,  already  noticed,  is 
one  of  these  causes.  Whoever  has  considered  the  subject 
must  have  been  struck  with  amazement  at  the  manner  in 
which  some  peculiarity  of  a  progenitor  will  reappear,  as  if 
from  the  grave,  in  the  person  of  a  remote  descendant.  Though 
many  causes  of  divergency  have  been  operating,  yet  we  some- 
times meet  one  of  our  own  race  who,  in  the  tones  of  his  voice, 
in  some  peculiar  hitch  of  his  shoulder,  in  his  gait,  or  in  the 
malformation  of  a  finger,  shall  seem  to  be  the  fac-simile  of  a 
grandfather  or  a  great-grandfather.  A  peculiarity  of  the  an- 
cestor shall  seem  to  have  disappeared  for  two  or  more  gen- 
erations only  to  startle  us  more  by  its  reappearing  afterwards, 
and  to  alarm  us  with  the  thought  at  what  a  distance  our  vices 
or  our  sorrows  may  be  reproduced  in  the  persons  of  those 
who  shall  come  after  us.  We  are  all  familiar  with  the  fact 
that  hereditary  insanity,  after  lying  by  stealthily  for  one  or 
two  generations,  will  sometimes  break  out  suddenly  in  almost 
the  same  form  ;  and  the  same  law  is  apparent  in  many  other 
directions.  We  recently  met  a  friend,  who  told  us  that,  in 
visiting  a  gallery  of  old  pictures  in  a  distant  city,  where  no 
one  of  his  near  relatives  had  ever  lived,  he  was  startled  at  the 


LIFE-POWER   A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM.     279 

sight  of  a  portrait,  which  was  the  exact  likeness  of  his  own 
father.  On  inquiry,  or  rather  on  taking  down  the  frame,  he 
found  on  the  back  of  it  his  father's  name.  He  learned,  after- 
wards, that  it  was  the  portrait  of  a  gentleman  who  lived  many 
years  previous  in  a  distant  land,  and  who  not  only  bore  the 
same  name  as  his  parent,  but  was  descended  from  the  same 
stock.  Thus,  through  the  same  law,  is  provision  made  for  uni- 
formity in  the  midst  of  variety,  and  for  variety  in  the  midst  of 
uniformity.  The  individuals  within  the  same  species  can  be 
arranged  into  groups  called  varieties,  which  have  distinguish- 
able characteristics,  that  tend  some  to  perpetuate  themselves 
through  indefinite  periods,*  others  to  disappear  when  the 
modifying  causes  are  withdrawn,  leaving  later  generations  free 
to  revert  to  the  original  type. 

It  should  be  observed,  too,  that,  through  whatever  varia- 
tions a  plant  or  an  animal  may  be  carried,  it  never  parts  with 
its  specific  character.  Men  do  not  gather  grapes  of  thorns 
nor  figs  of  thistles.  Between  those  of  different  species  there  • 
are  chasms  which  are  impassable.  As  no  system  of  treat- 
ment or  domestication  will   transform  a  lion  into  a  lamb,  so 

*  The  clog  is  a  good  example  of  peculiarities,  induced  at  first  by  training,  but 
perpetuated  in  the  offspring  by  the  law  of  hereditary  transmission.  The  pointer 
dog,  which  hunts  partridges,  the  spaniel,  which  hunts  woodcock,  and  the  terrier, 
which  hunts  only  rats  and  other  vermin,  represent  varieties  superinduced  by  edu- 
cation in  the  first  instance,  and  then  propagated.  For  example,  the  spaniel,  if 
taken  into  the  field  soon  after  birth,  and  without  any  older  dog,  will  at  once  give 
chase  to  the  woodcock,  and  to  no  other  game,  though  he  has  never  before  seen 
the  object  of  his  instinct.  In  the  first  part  of  Prichard's  Natural  History  of 
Man,  where  this  subject  is  discussed,  an  instance  is  mentioned  on  the  authority 
of  an  intelligent  sportsman,  in  which  a  young  spaniel,  taken  out  under  these  cir- 
cumstances, not  only  went  in  search  of  the  appropriate  bird,  but,  as  the  weather 
was  frosty,  and  some  parts  of  the  ground  and  streams  were  frozen,  this  animal,  as 
if  he  had  had  long  experience,  went  at  once  to  ground  not  frozen,  it  being  there 
only  that  the  birds  gather  in  such  weather.*  Of  varieties  superinduced  in  a 
vegetable  species,  the  rose  is  a  familiar  example.  Much  of  the  skill  of  Horti- 
culturists consists  in  arresting  and  propagating  any  good  qualities  which  may 
be  created  casually,  or  inducing  them  by  artificial  means. 

*  Prichard's  Natural  History  of  Man. 


28o  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

will  no  intermixture  of  species  through  procreation.  Each 
male  has  an  instinct  that  keeps  it  to  the  female  of  its  kind. 
"  Buffon  reared  puppies  of  the  wolf,  fox,  and  dog  together,  to 
familiarize  them  with  each  other;  but  when  they  were  in  heat 
the  females  of  each  species  exhibited  an  insurmountable  re- 
pugnance to  the  male  of  the  other,  and  mortal  combat  ensued 
instead  of  fertile  union  between  the  different  sexes  of  the  dif- 
ferent species."*  Where  union  is  brought  about  by  con- 
straint, the  hybrid  offspring  are  sterile.  No  mongrel  race, 
produced  by  such  a  union,  can  perpetuate  itself  The  mule 
is  a  familiar  example.  There  seems  in  these  cases  to  be  an 
invincible  tendency  towards  reversion  to  the  pure  breed.  A 
few  exceptional  cases  there  may  be;  but  such  cases,  as  an 
eminent  naturalistf  has  observed,  serve  only  to  establish  the 
general  rule  of  the  infertility  of  specifical  hybrids.  Where 
they  do  propagate,  the  intermediate  race  is  degenerate  in  char- 
acter, feeble  in  structure,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  genera- 
tions becomes  extinct. 

{b)    Transmiitatioti  of  Species. 

Yet,  in  face  of  these  facts,  there  are  those  who  maintain  the 
doctrine  of  transnmted  species.  They  maintain  that  either 
through  strivings  or  appetencies  of  the  animal  itself,  or  through 
inherent  irrepressible  tendencies,  the  lower  forms  develop 
themselves  into  the  higher,  and  that  thus,  without  interven- 
tion of  the  Creator,  life  may  ascend  from  plants  to  animals, 
and  from  animals  of  a  lower  to  those  of  a  higher  organization. 
That  God  could  endow  the  lower  species  with  such  powers 
of  progression  we  do  not  deny.  If  they  existed,  they  would 
stand  as  monuments  both  of  his  power  and  of  his  wisdom. 


*  Annales  de  Museum,  t.  xii.  quoted  by  Owen.     See,  also,  Hunter's  "  Animal 
Economy,"  by  Owen, 
t  R.  Owen. 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM.     28 1 

What  the  Almighty  can  do  is  not  a  question  for  mortal  man 
to  discuss.  The  great  question  in  this  connection  is  what  He 
has  done.  Do  observed  facts  authorize  us,  in  the  present 
state  of  knowledge,  to  conclude  that  any  known  species,  ex- 
isting or  extinct,  has  been  thus  developed  ?  Can  the  followers 
of  Lamarck,  Maillet,  Geoffroy  St.-Hilaire  point  us  to  any  living 
plant  or  animal  which  has  been  observed  either  to  raise  itself 
to  a  higher  or  to  degenerate  into  a  lower  species, — to  take  to 
itself  a  nature  and  character  specifically  new  ?  Can  they 
point  us  to  the  petrified  monuments  of  any  such  transmuta- 
tions in  the  rocky  formations  of  the  globe  ?  These  formations 
extend  through  an  almost  illimitable  period  of  time.  They 
were  deposited  very  slowly,  and  it  seems,  therefore,  inconceiv- 
able that  they  should  not  have  arrested  and  embodied  some 
of  the  many  millions  of  developments  which,  according  to 
this  theory,  must  have  been  going  on.  Until  examples  of 
this  kind  are  produced  which  will  command  confidence, 
which  will  unite  in  their  support  the  suffrages  of  respectable 
Zoologists  and  Palaeontologists  in  different  countries,  we  may 
be  excused  for  saying  that  the  theory  of  development  or 
transmutation  of  species  is  not  supported  by  conclusive  proof; 
and  until  proven  it  should  not  require  us  to  accept  it  as  a 
substitute  for  the  doctrine  which  makes  God  the  immediate 
author  of  each  species  of  plants  and  animals. 

In  the  mean  time,  it  becomes  the  advocates  of  that  theory  to 
reconcile  with  it  many  facts  which  are  now  received  by  Scien- 
tific Naturalists.  Is  it  not  a  fact,  for  example,  that  where 
transformations  of  any  kind  (as  in  case  of  the  butterfly)  are 
observed,  it  is  not  the  use  nor  any  striving  of  the  animal  that 
precedes  the  development  of  the  organ,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
the  organ  is  developed  before  there  can  be  any  use  for  it  ? 
The  larva  of  the  winged  insect  can  only  walk ;  but  if  we 
take  it  and  dissect  it  before  its  metamorphosis  is  completed, 
we  find  within  an  apparatus  for  flight  through  the  air.  How 
can  such  facts  be  reconciled  to  the  doctrine  of  appetencies  ? 


282  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Is  it  not  a  fact,  again,  that  among  the  oldest  fossil  vegetables 
we  find  dicotyledonous  plants  {i.e.  those  of  the  highest  form) 
coexistent  with  acotyledonous  [i.e.  those  of  the  lowest  form)? — 
and  they  are  coexistent  now.  This  does  not  look  like  pro- 
gressive development.  Is  it  not  a  fact,  also,  that  the  three 
lower  types  of  animals,  the  invertebral  {i.e.  radiata,  mollusca, 
Crustacea),  coexist  throughout  all  the  geological  epochs? 
And  in  respect  to  the  vertebrated  animals,  on  which  the  ad- 
vocates for  development  most  rest,  we  do  not  find  that,  in 
ascending  from  the  earlier  to  the  later  formations,  the  im- 
provement in  organization  is  by  any  regular  progression.  It 
is  true  that  fishes  existed  before  reptiles,  reptiles  before 
birds,  birds  before  mammalia,  mammalia  before  man.  But 
it  is  not  true  that  the  least  perfectly  organized  fish  or  reptile 
or  bird  existed  before  all  others  of  the  same  kind.  If  we 
take  the  orders  within  each  or  any  class,  it  does  not  appear 
that  they  went  on  progressively  improving  by  regularly  ascend- 
ing steps.  Nor  is  it  true  of  any  particular  organ  (the  eye,  for 
instance)  belonging  to  any  particular  class  (as  Crustacea)  that 
it  has  gone  on  improving  from  the  first  to  the  last.  We  may 
search  the  highest  authorities  in  Botany,  Zoology,  and  Ge- 
ology, and  we  shall  find  hardly  one  among  them  disposing 
of  these  points  in  a  manner  favorable  to  the  doctrine  of  de- 
velopment or  transmutation  of  species.  In  the  absence,  then, 
of  well-attested  facts  in  its  support,  and  in  the  presence  of 
such  facts  as  these  in  refutation  of  it,  this  doctrine  can  present 
as  yet  few  claims  to  respectful  consideration. 

{c)  Embryotic  Theoiy. 

But  look,  it  may  be  said,  at  the  stages  through  which  the 
embryo  passes  before  its  birth !  Is  there  not  proof  here  of  the 
progression  or  transmutation  of  species?  While  in  embryo,  is 
not  the  mammal  successively  a  fish,  a  reptile,  a  bird  ?  And 
is  not  this  proof  that  the  organic  germs  of  all  animals  are 


LIFE- POWER  A-    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM. 


283 


identical,  and  that,  under  "  favor  of  peculiar  circumstances," 
a  fish,  at  some  time,  produced  a  reptile,  a  reptile  a  bird,  and 
a  bird  a  beast  ?  We  answer,  first,  that  before  a  cause  can  be 
admitted  in  Philosophy  as  more  than  a  mere  hypothesis,  it  is 
necessary  to  show  not  merely  that  it  is  sufficient  to  account 
for  a  given  phenomenon,  but  also  that  it  has  a  real  existence. 
Hence,  until  some  example  of  such  an  advance  shall  have 
been  observed  and  placed  beyond  question,  the  supposition 
must  be  regarded  as  a  mere  conjecture.  But,  secondly,  as  to 
the  alleged  facts,  is  it  certain  that,  in  the  successive  stages  of 
the  foetus  of  a  higher  animal  (such  as  man),  it  is  at  any  time 
identical  with  the  foetus  of  a  lower  one  ?  For  an  answer  to 
this  question,  we  can  only  appeal  to  Physiologists  and  Zoolo- 
gists ;  and  we  would  especially  interrogate  those  who  look 
with  more  or  less  of  favor  on  what  may  be  called  the  Einbry- 
otic  Theory.  Their  answer,  when  properly  sifted,  if  we  under- 
stand it,  amounts  merely  to  this :  that  if  we  take  the  embryos 
at  their  earliest  stages,  there  is  a  general  resemblance ;  that  at 
later  periods,  to  discern  any  resemblance  we  must  confine  our 
attention,  for  the  time,  to  some  one  organ  or  part.  If  we  look 
at  the  central  portions  of  the  foetus,  we  must  neglect  its  or- 
ganic appendages,  essential  alike  to  its  continued  life  and  to 
its  matured  structure,  and  alsp  to  its  whole  mass.  Even  in 
respect  to  a  single  organ,  as  the  brain,  Fletcher  (in  his  Rudi- 
ments of  Physiology'^),  after  speaking  of  it  as  a  fact  of  the  highest 
interest  and  moment  that  the  brain  of  every  class  of  animals 
appears  to  pass,  during  its  development,  m  succession  through 
the  types  of  all  those  below  it,  adds,  "  It  is  hardly  necessary  to 
say,  that  all  this  is  oidy  an  approximation  to  the  truth,  since 
neither  is  the  brain  of  all  osseous  fishes,  of  all  turtles,  of  all 
birds,  nor  of  all  the  species  of  any  one  of  the  above  order  of 
mammals,  by  any  means  precisely  the  same;  nor  does  the  brain 
of  the  human  foetus  at  any  time  precisely  resemble  perhaps  that 
of  any  individual  whatever  among  the  lozver  animals."     Car- 

*  Quoted  in  Harris's  Preadamite  Earth,  p.  281. 


284  ^-^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

penter,  who  is  also  disposed  to  look  with  some  favor  on  the 
theory,  says,  "  It  was  at  one  time  stated  as  a  general  law,  that 
all  the  higher  animals,  in  the  progress  of  their  development, 
pass  through  a  series  of  forms  analogous  to  those  encoun- 
tered in  ascending  the  animal  scale.  But  this  is  not  correct 
(except  in  very  few  cases)  as  to  the  entire  animal,  and  in 
respect  to  individual  organs,  the  resemblance  is  not  at  all  in 
the  form,  but  in  the  condition  or  grade  of  development." 

Such  admissions  would  seem  to  deprive  the  facts  of  much 
value  for  the  hypothesis  in  question,  more  especially  when  we 
add  to  them  that  three  entire  classes  (radiata,  mollusca,  and 
articulata)  are  passed  over  without  any  foetal  type ;  that  the 
organs  first  laid  down  belong  to  the  higher  function  (sensa- 
tion), not  to  the  lower  (digestion) ;  that  the  only  resemblance, 
according  to  Muller,  which  can  be  traced  at  any  time  between 
the  embryo  of  a  man  and  a  fish,  is  that  of  a  joint  resemblance, 
at  the  beginning,  to  the  common  type  of  all  vertebrated  ani- 
mals. Whatever  all  are  to  have  in  common,  all  exhibit  in 
embryo ;  but  as  each  is  developed  it  separates  from  this  com- 
mon type.  Thus  "  all  embryos  have  at  first  arches,  separated 
by  clefts,  at  the  sides  of  their  necks,  which  have  been  unaptly 
termed  branchial  arches.  They  are  merely  an  expression  of 
the  general  plan  of  structure,  and  have  as  yet  none  of  the  at- 
tributes of  branchiae."  "  It  is  only  in  fishes  that  they  undergo 
a  progressive  metamorphosis,  consisting  of  the  development 
of  the  branchial  laminae  upon  some  of  the  arches.*  In  short, 
we  may  dismiss  this  theory  in  the  language  of  one  of  the  first 

*  Muller's  Physiology,  by  Bailly,  p.  1592.  Dr.  M.  Barry  has  traced  the  pro- 
cess of  development  in  mammalia  with  great  care  and  skill,  and  he  states  that, 
from  the  commencement  of  it,  when  the  germinal  vesicle  disappears,  two  cells 
are  formed  in  its  stead,  each  of  which  gives  rise  to  two  other  cells,  and  so  on. 
From  this  commencement  the  development  is  different  for  different  tribes  of 
animals, — different  as  to  the  shape  of  the  cells,  the  chemical  changes  they  un- 
dergo, and  the  numlier  and  complication  of  the  parts.  It  is  worthy  of  observa- 
tion, too,  that  when  the  development  of  a  superior  animal  is  arrested  by  some 
disturbing  cause,  the  result  is  not  a  perfect  inferior  creature,  but  a  monstrosity. 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM. 


285 


Physiologists  of  any  age."  "  Not  long  since  it  was  supposed 
and  seriously  affirmed  by  many  naturalists,  that  the  human 
embryo  passed  through  the  different  stages  of  development 
which  are  permanent  conditions  of  other  animals.  This  was 
a  very  bold  hypothesis,  and  one  that  is  by  no  means  correct. 
Its  falsity  was  well  demonstrated  by  Von  Baer."* 

Thus,  then,  do  physiological  arguments  in  favor  of  the 
transmutation  of  species  disappear  in  proportion  as  they  are 
scrutinized,  and  we  revert  to  the  previous  faith  of  mankind, 
founded  alike,  apparently,  on  Scripture  and  on  observation, 
"  that  species  have  a  real  existence,  and  that  each  was  en- 
dowed, at  the  time  of  its  creation,  with  the  attributes  and 
organs  by  which  it  is  now  distinguished. "f  The  whole  num- 
ber, therefore,  of  existing  and  extinct  species,  amounting 
probably  to  as  many  as  one  to  two  millions,  point  each  to 
the  supernatural  power  of  God  for  their  origin.  One  million 
of  separate  creations  are  spread  around  us  to  proclaim  the 
manifold  wisdom  of  the  Creator,  to  proclaim  at  the  same 
time  that  nothing  exists  without  Him,  and  that  when  He  puts 
forth  his  power  He  need  not  repeat  Himself.  By  the  number 
of  independent  species.  He  proclaims  the  vast  exuberance  of 
his  wisdom  and  power, — by  the  provisions  which  He  has  also 
made  for  multiplying  varieties  within  the  same  species,  He 
seems  to  proclaim  further  that  this  power  is  equally  exuber- 
ant, though  it  act  through  second  causes. 

But  is  it  not  beneath  the  dignity,  it  may  be  asked,  of  such 
a  being  as  God  to  stoop  to  such  acts  of  originating  power  ? 
A  popular  writer^  has  actually  represented  it  as  "a  most  in- 
conceivably paltry  exercise  of  Divine  Power"  to  create  one 
of  the  lower  species.  He  has  also  charged  those  who  believe 
this  as  "  supposing  God  to  be  constantly  acting  in  particular 
ways  for  particular   occasions," — "  to  be  constantly  moving 

*  Milller,  tibi  supra. 

f  See  De  la  Beche's  Geological  Researches,  p.  239. 

\  Vestiges  of  Creation,  p.  164,  3d  edition. 


286  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

from  one  sphere  to  another ;"  thus  taking  "  the  narrowest  of 
all  views  of  the  Deity,  and  those  characteristic  of  a  humble 
class  of  intellects."  To  declamation  of  this  kind,  emanating 
from  one  who  has  shown  himself  by  no  means  strong,  either 
in  facts  or  in  logic,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  reply, — first,  that 
between  holding  that  God  constantly  acts  in  particular  ways 
for  particular  occasions,  and  holding  that  He  exerted  creative 
Power  but  once,  there  is  an  alternative  to  be  found  in  the 
opinions  held  by  Newton  and  Boyle  and  Cuvier,  and  all  the 
most  illustrious  lights  of  Science,  that  to  govern  the  world 
by  general  laws  is  not  inconsistent  with  the  interposition  of 
special  acts  of  creative  or  miraculous  power.  Second,  that  to 
substitute  development,  the  evolution  of  natural  law,  for  di- 
rect efforts  of  the  Creator  in  producing  a  species,  makes  the 
act  none  the  less  his,  unless  we  also  deny  that  this  law  and  the 
power  by  which  it  acts  are  his.  Third,  that  to  suppose  the 
Creator  compromises  his  dignity  by  condescending  to  the 
creation  or  care  of  lowly  beings,  is  not  only  to  degrade  Him 
to  the  level  of  an  earthly  sovereign,  who  upholds  his  state  by 
pomp  and  disregard  of  inferiors,  but  even  below  that  level ; 
for  never  do  the  great  of  this  world  more  win  our  affection  or 
reverence  than  when  they  show  that,  with  exalted  station  and 
high  mental  gifts,  they  combine  gentle  and  condescending 
hearts. 

DISTRIBUTION    OF   SPECIES. 

We  are  brought,  then,  to  the  conclusion  that,  in  multiplying 
the  species  of  plants  and  animals,  God  has  placed  before  us 
so  many  separate  monuments  of  his  creative  power.  Worthy 
of  remark  also  is  the  manner  in  which  He  has  diversified  the 
face  of  animated  nature  by  the  distribution  of  different  species 
in  different  countries.  Suppose  a  spectator  raised  above  the 
earth  to  such  a  height  that  he  could  remain  stationary  while 
the  globe  rolls  beneath  him  on  its  axis ;  suppose  him  en- 
dowed with  such  powers  of  vision  that  he  could  discern  every 


LIFE-POWER   A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM. 


287 


variety  of  plants  and  animals  that  dwell  upon  it,  whether  on 
land,  in  water,  or  in  air,  and  that  he  occupies  successively 
such  positions  that  each  zone  shall  pass  directly  beneath  his 
feet, — what  would  he  observe?  He  would  find  that  of  two 
thousand  eight  hundred  and  ninety-one  species  of  Phane- 
rogamous plants,  described  by  Pursh  as  belonging  to  the 
United  States,  only  three  hundred  and  eighty-five  are  found 
in  Northern  or  temperate  Europe ;  that  of  all  the  plants  ob- 
served by  Humboldt  and  Bonpland  in  Equinoctial  America, 
but  twenty-four  species  are  found  in  any  part  of  the  Old 
World ;  that  of  more  than  four  thousand  species  discovered 
in  Australia,  less  than  two  hundred  are  known  in  Europe, 
and  that  even  on  the  same  continent,  and  in  nearly  the  same 
latitude,  where,  too,  there  is  constant  communication  between 
different  sections,  tJiose  sections  are  distinguisJied  each  by  its 
peculiar  Flora.  As  an  example  of  the  last  fact,  we  may  men- 
tion that  in  China  there  is  one  assemblage  of  species,  a  dif- 
ferent one  near  the  Black  and  Caspian  Seas,  yet  another  on 
the  Mediterranean,  and  yet  another  on  the  great  platform  of 
Tartary, 

It  is  the  same  with  animals.  Almost  every  large  territory 
has  its  own  Fauna.  If,  for  instance,  we  take  the  three  equa- 
torial districts, — American,  African,  and  East  Indian, — we  shall 
find  distinct  quadrupeds  in  each.  So  with  Australia,  where 
marsupial  animals  prevail ;  with  New  Guinea,  New  Britain, 
and  New  Ireland,  where  there  are  hardly  any  native  warm- 
blooded animals ;  with  the  Southern  extremities  of  South 
America  and  Africa,  each  having  its  own  Fauna,  and  with  the 
Northern  temperate  regions  of  the  two  Continents.  The 
Eastern  Continent,  in  the  temperate  zone,  is  much  richer  in 
native  animals ;  the  Western  temperate  zone  is  more  abundant 
in  native  plants.  It  is  the  same  in  the  ocean.  At  different 
deptJis,  as  well  as  in  different  latitudes,  we  find  different  orders 
of  Fishes.  In  recent  submarine  researches.  Professor  Forbes 
has  ascertained  that  even  on  the  bed  of  the  sea  living  beings 


288  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

are  not  distributed  indifferently  ;  but  certain  species  live  in 
certain  parts,  according  to  the  depth,  so  that  the  sea-bed  pre- 
sents a  series  of  Zones  or  Regions,  each  peopled  by  its  pecu- 
liar inhabitants.  Eight  well-defined  Zones,  for  example,  were 
found  between  the  surface  and  the  depth  of  two  hundred  and 
thirty  fathoms  in  the  Eastern  Mediterranean.  Similar  Zones 
of  depth  are  found  in  the  organic  remains  of  upheaved  beds, 
so  that,  ultimately,  conclusions  may  be  drawn  as  to  the  depth 
at  which  a  given  stratum,  containing  remains,  was  deposited. 

UNITY    OF   THE    HUMAN    RACE. 

In  truth,  man  seems  to  be  the  only  cosmopolitan,  the  only 
universal  denizen.  But  is  there,  it  may  be  asked,  only  one 
species  of  men?  Is  the  African,  or  the  Indian,  or  the  Mongo- 
lian to  be  referred  to  the  same  species  as  the  European  and 
those  of  pure  Caucasian  blood?  We  answer  that,  for  a  reso- 
lution of  this  question.  Philologists  have  interrogated  the  dif- 
ferent known  languages  of  the  world,  living  or  dead ;  Psy- 
chologists have  investigated  the  mental  characteristics  of  the 
different  races  of  men ;  and  Physiologists  and  Zoologists  have 
compared  their  respective  organizations,  functions,  and  habits. 
The  result  has,  in  each  case,  pointed  to  a  common  origin  and 
a  common  nature  for  all  who  bear  the  name  of  men.  The 
physiological  conclusions,  the  only  ones  quite  pertinent  to  our 
present  line  of  argument,  are  thus  summed  up  by  Dr.  Prichard, 
at  the  close  of  his  great  work  on  the  Physical  and  Natural 
History  of  Man:  "I  have  endeavored  to  establish  the  gen- 
eral fact,  that  no  remarkable  instance  of  variety  is  discover- 
able in  mankind  of  which  a  parallel  may  not  be  found  among 
the  lower  orders  of  the  creation.  I  have  also  attempted  in 
the  first  chapter  to  prove  that  tribes  of  animals  luhich  belong 
to  different  species  differ  from  each  other,  physically,  in  a  variety 
of  particulars,  in  which  the  most  dissimilar  of  human  races 
display  no  such  differences.     In  the  first  place,  separate  but 


LIFE- POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM. 


289 


even  proximate  species  differ  from  each  other  in  the  prin- 
cipal laws  of  the  animal  economy,  as  those  which  govern  the 
duration  of  life  and  the  facts  which  relate  to  reproduction. 
Human  races  coincide  strictly  in  all  these  respects.  Secondly, 
different  species  of  animals  have  different  diseases, — are  sub- 
jected to  different  pathological  laws,  if  I  may  use  such  an 
expression.  All  human  races  are  liable  to  the  same  diseases; 
at  least  the  varieties  which  exist  in  these  respects  are  such  as 
are  produced  by  the  influence  of  climate.  TJiirdly,  distinct 
species  do  not  freely  intermix  their  breed,  and  hybrid  plants 
and  animals  do  not  propagate  beyond,  at  most,  a  very  few 
generations ;  and  no  real  hybrid  races  are  perpetuated,  but 
mixed  breeds  descended  from  the  most  distinct  races  of  men 
are  remarkably  prolific."  "  The  inference  is  obvious,  if  the 
mixed  propagation  of  men  does  not  obey  the  same  laws  which 
universally  govern  the  breeding  of  hybrids,  the  mixed  breeds 
of  men  are  not  really  hybrid,  and  the  original  tribes  from 
which  they  descend  must  be  considered  as  varieties  of  the 
same  species." 

Thus  does  Science,  as  now  instructed,  unite  with  Revela- 
tion, as  now  interpreted,  in  assigning  a  common  origin  to 
mankind.  Of  one  blood  hath  God  made  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth, — by  one  blood,  therefore,  may  all  be  redeemed. 
Sprung  from  one  common  progenitor,  they  can  lean  upon  one 
common  Saviour.  In  taking  upon  Him  the  nature  of  the 
seed  of  Abraham,  that  Saviour  took  on  Him  the  nature  of  all 
human  flesh.  Therefore  for  all  He  died,  and  in  Him  all  alike 
may  live.  So  the  sublimest  doctrines  of  our  faith  connect 
themselves  with  the  problems  of  our  physical  history,  and  it 
becomes  something  more  than  a  curious  question  in  Science, 
whether  there  be  one  or  several  species  of  men.  As  to  the 
rank  which  belongs  to  our  race,  the  Bible  plainly  declares 
that  in  creation  a  high  pre-eminence  was  assigned  to  man. 
It  gives  no  intimation  of  his  having  been  developed  or  trans- 
formed, in  virtue  of  mere  natural  law,  from  an  ape  or  a  ba- 

19 


290 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


boon  into  the  lord  of  creation.  It  teaches  that  God  formed 
him  out  of  the  dust  of  the  ground ;  that  into  this  form,  thus 
moulded  out  of  base  material,  but  clothed  with  transcendent 
beauty,  God  Himself  breathed  the  breath  of  life,  and  man  be- 
came a  living  soul.  Does  Science  teach  a  different  lesson  ? 
We  think  not.  Says  the  great  Blumenbach,  in  his  work  on 
the  Native  Varieties  of  the  Hiinia)i  Race,  "  The  peculiar  char- 
acteristics of  man  appear  to  me  so  very  strong  that  I  not  only 
deem  him  a  distinct  species,  but  also  put  him  into  a  separate 
order  by  himself  His  Physical  and  Moral  Attributes  place 
him  at  a  much  greater  distance  from  all  the  orders  of  mam- 
malia than  those  are  from  each  other,  respectively.  Order 
BimaniDii ;  Genus  Homo;  the  Species  single,  with  several 
varieties  hereafter  enumerated.  Cliaracters — Erect  stature ; 
two  hands ;  teeth  approximated  and  of  equal  length — the  in- 
ferior incisors  perpendicular ;  prominent  chin ;  rational ;  en- 
dowed with  speech ;  unarmed,  defenceless."  Go  not,  then, 
man,  when  thou  wouldst  trace  thy  lineage,  down  through  a 
long  train  of  chattering  monkeys  and  hooting  owls  and  crawl- 
ing reptiles  and  slimy  fish.  Such  an  origin,  even  if  thou 
couldst  find  it,  would  not  exalt  thine  aspirations,  nor  help  to 
fire  thy  soul  with  a  generous  ardor  for  duty  and  for  glory. 
But  Heaven-descended  !  thy  origin  is  not  there.  A  spark 
divtine  warmed  and  vivified  the  clay  out  of  which  thou  wert 
framed.  In  the  grandeur  of  thy  origin  read  the  dignity  and 
responsibility  of  thy  trust.  Think  how  God  must  love  the 
choicest  of  his  earthly  handiworks, —  that  alone  on  which 
He  imprinted  his  own  image, — and  wonder  not  when  thou 
hearest  that  to  save  such  offspring  from  ruin  and  death  He 
spared  not  his  best  Beloved — the  son  of  the  Highest. 

'In  thus  maintaining  the  permanency  and  immutability  of 
those  specific  differences  which  separate  different  ranks  and 
orders  of  organic  being,  we  seem  to  have  been  upholding 
great  moral  distinctions.  Nature  shadows  forth,  in  her  works, 
lessons  full  of  solemn  admonitions.     Speaking  through  in- 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM. 


291 


animate,  and  much  more  through  animated,  substances,  she 
seems  to  whisper  truths  which  are  destined  to  be  more  clearly 
unfolded  in  the  constitution  and  History  of  Man  and  in  the 
teachings  of  Revelation.  Why  should  she  not  thus  symbolize, 
as  it  were,  lessons  which  ought  to  meet  us  everywhere,  which 
may  well  beam  upon  us  from  every  object  we  behold?  Certain 
it  is  that  Christ  employed  the  very  principle  on  which  we 
have  been  insisting  to  teach  a  great  moral  lesson.  "  Do  men 
gather  grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles?"  said  He,  when 
He  would  impress  upon  us  the  still  neglected  truth  that  our 
principles  must  be  holy  if  we  would  have  our  actions  right ; 
that  we  must  make  the  tree  good  if  we  would  have  its  fruits 
good.  The  awful  fact  that  actions  reproduce  and  perpetuate 
themselves,  that  they  will  propagate  their  own  kind  and  no 
other ;  that  long  after  we  have  forgotten  them,  their  legiti- 
mate offspring  will  start  up  along  our  path  to  cheer  or  to 
scourge  our  souls, — this  is  a  truth  which  seems  to  be  heralded 
in  the  constitution  of  all  things  that  have  life.  "  Whatsoever 
a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap.  He  that  soweth  to  the 
flesh,  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption ;  and  he  that  soweth 
to  the  Spirit,  shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting."  This  is 
fearful  truth  for  the  sinner  and  the  ungodly,  but  only  en- 
couragement for  the  good.  "  Let  us  not  be  weary  in  well- 
doing, for  in  due  season  we  shall  reap,  if  we  faint  not." 

IV.    DIVINE    UNITY. 

We  have  thus  reviewed  some  of  the  tokens  of  the  manifold 
Wisdom  of  God  to  be  observed  in  the  vast  variety  of  living 
creatures.  But  does  not  this  review  compromise  the  doctrine 
of  the  Divine  Unity?  What  assurance  can  we  have,  amid 
such  endless  diversity,  that  there  is  not  more  than  one, — that 
there  are  not  many  Creators  ?  We  reply,  that  we  must  bring 
to  bear  here  the  same  principles  which  we  employ  in  ascer- 
taining whether  human  productions  have  the  same  or  different 


292 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


authors,  Ex  iingiic  leonem.  Evc-ry  agent,  small  or  great,  has 
his  own  peculiar  character,  and  that  character  he  imprints  in 
some  mysterious  but  most  significant  manner  upon  all  (even 
the  least)  of  his  works.  Take  the  greatest  of  poets  or  his- 
torians, and,  though  devoid  of  mannerism,  though  pre-emi- 
nent for  versatility  and  abundance  of  resource,  you  still  find 
the  same  style  more  or  less  apparent  in  all  he  writes.  Is  it 
not  so  with  the  Records  which  tlie  Creator  has  placed  before 
us  in  his  works  ?  with  the  Great  Drama  of  Life  which  is 
ever  moving  on  towards  its  final  catastrophe  ?  If  it  does,  in- 
deed, emanate  from  one  and  the  same  mind,  we  shall  expect 
to  find  everywhere  impressive  traces  of  one  and  the  same 
style.     What,  then,  is  the  fact  ? 

Look  first  {a\  at  the  whole  zvorld  of  organic  nature.  Secondly 
(/;),  at  what  certain  portions  of  the  vegetable  and  animal  king- 
doms Jiave  in  common.  Thirdly  {c\  at  the  traces  of  imity  of 
composition  in  those  kingdoms,  considered  each  by  itself;  and 
Fourthly  [d),  at  the  harmony  of  coexistent  parts  in  the  same 
individual. 

{a)  Throughout  the  whole  domain  of  Organic  Nature  we 
find  life  and  functions  that  pertain  to  life.  Each  individual, 
whether  it  be  a  vegetable  or  an  animal,  contains  within  itself 
the  powers  necessary  both  to  the  production  and  the  main- 
tenance of  all  the  several  parts  that  go  to  make  up  its  whole. 
And  these  powers  produce  results  so  similar,  in  both  the 
kingdoms  of  organic  Hfe,  that  the  same  names  have  been 
given,  by  physiologists,  to  the  most  important  vital  processes 
in  each.  For  example,  both  plants  and  animals  take  food, 
digest,  and  assimilate  it,  circulate  fluids,  respire  air,  exert  repro- 
ductive power,  and  alternate  diurnally  between  the  zvaking  and 
sleeping  states.  Both,  too,  exhibit  tiie  functions  o{  contractility 
and  in'itability .  If  we  pass  behind  their  more  obvious  func- 
tions and  trace  the  development  of  their  respective  germs,  we 
find  that,  in  both,  that  development  takes  place  in  substan- 
tially the  same  way,  cells  being  elaborated  from  the  pre-ex- 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM.     293 

istent  structureless  germ,  and  the  various  elementary  tissues 
being  elaborated  from  these  cells.  Different  as  plants  and 
animals  are,  then,  they  have  enough  in  common  to  show  that 
they  are  the  workmanship  of  one  hand. 

{p)  Consider  again  what  certain  portions  of  these  kingdoms 
have  in  common  over  and  above  what  we  have  specified.  If 
we  go  to  the  seaside  and  take  up  specimens  of  algae  (sea-weed) 
and  protozoa  (sponges,  etc.),  we  find  some  of  them  so  rude  in 
their  organization  that  they  seem  to  be  little  more  than  anti- 
cipations of  future  organisms.  They  have  been  called  plant 
animals  and  animal  plants,  because  it  is  not  easy  to  determine, 
in  respect  to  either,  whether  it  be  a  vegetable  or  an  animal 
structure.  But  turn  from  these  rude  structures  to  the  radiated 
animals  (such  as  the  star-fish).  We  find  here  that  the  several 
parts  are  ranged  round  a  common  centre ;  that  they  have  a 
certain  position  for  the  reproductive  organs  ;  are  loose  in  text- 
ure, and  of  one  color.  Are  there  not  plants  having  all  these 
peculiarities  ?  Take  up  any  of  the  fungi  {\.\\q  common  mush- 
room is  an  example),  and  we  find  there  the  same  arrangement 
of  parts  round  a  common  centre, — the  same  disposition  of  the 
sexual  organs, — a  like  looseness  of  texture  and  a  similar  color. 
Or,  go  to  the  moUusca  (oysters  or  clams  are  examples),  and 
we  have  there  the  spiral  mode  of  development  and  additions 
to  the  animal  made  at  its  edges.  It  is  the  same  with  mosses 
2i\\d  ferns.  So,  if  we  compare  the  articnlata  (insects,  lobsters, 
etc.)  among  animals  with  endogens  (grass,  palms,  bamboo,  and 
cane)  among  vegetables,  we  find  that  they  agree  in  having  an 
external  skeleton  for  the  support  of  the  softer  parts,  which 
are  internal ;  in  having  new  matter  added  to  the  interior ;  in 
being  divided  into  similar  segments,  each  of  which  contains 
the  organs  necessary  to  life,  and  in  having  tracheae  for  the  ad- 
mission of  air  distributed  throughout  their  whole  mass.  Fi- 
nally, if  we  compare  vertcbratcd  animals  with  the  exogens,  we 
find  that  the  harder  parts  in  botli  are  within ;  that  additions 
are  made  externally,  and  that  in  both  the  internal  respiratory 


294  ^-^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

apparatus  is  confined  to  a  particular  situation  in  the  fabric. 
Here,  then,  are  different  plans  of  structure  to  be  found  both 
in  plants  and  animals  ;  but  the  differences  are  not  without 
order  and  symmetry.  The  same  principles,  employed  in  a 
certain  division  of  the  one,  seem  to  have  been  transferred  to 
a  correspondent  division  in  the  other;  so  that,  when  the  two 
kingdoms  are  placed  side  by  side,  they  are  seen  to  have  their 
correspondencies,  their  analogies,  and  affinities,  and  thus  to 
carry  our  minds  upwards  to  one  Supreme  Intelligence  as  their 
source. 

[c]  If  we  examine  each  organic  kingdom  separately,  we 
shall  be  struck  with  traces  of  vnity  hi  composition.  We  take 
a  single  example  from  each.  It  was  suggested  long  since  by 
the  German  poet,  Goethe,  who  was  also  an  able  Naturalist, 
that  all  parts  of  the  flower  and  fruit  of  most  plants  (especially 
the  Phanerogamous)  are  but  modifications  of  a  single  organ, 
the  leaf  The  suggestion  was  at  first  neglected  or  ridiculed. 
After  some  years  it  was  made  from  another  quarter,  and  the 
progress  of  Scientific  Botany,  in  the  mean  time,  rendered  it 
necessary  that  the  Theory  should  be  thoroughly  investigated. 
The  result  was  conclusive,*  and  the  scientific  world  are  now 


*  It  ought,  perhaps,  to  be  stated,  that  this  Doctrine  of  vegetable  metamor- 
phosis seems  to  have  been  obscurely  stated  or  intimated  by  Linnanis;  but  it  failed 
to  attract  the  notice  of  any  succeeding  Botanist  until  revived  and  elucidated  by 
Goethe.  His  Essay  was  first  published  in  1790.  Until  1829,  when  it  was  trans- 
lated into  French,  at  the  instance  of  De  Candolle,  it  was  hardly  noticed.  In  the 
interim  (in  1813)  a  similar  view  had  occurred  to  De  C.  himself,  and  had  been 
])ublished  by  him ;  while  Sir  James  Edward  Smith,  in  his  Introduction  to  Physi- 
ological and  Systematical  Botany  (published  in  1807),  put  forth,  independently, 
the  same  theory.  It  embraces  even  more  evidence  of  unity  of  plan  and  purpose 
than  I  have  ventured  to  express  in  the  text.  To  adopt  the  language  of  one  of 
the  first  American  Botanists  (Dr.  Darlington),  "All  the  appendages  of  plants, 
from  the  rude  cotyledons  of  the  germinating  seed  to  the  most  delicate  component 
parts  of  the  perfect  flower,  are  nothmg  but  modified  forms  of  that  expansive 
tissue  (the  cortical)  which  envelops  the  tender  shoots  of  plants,  and  is  the  prin- 
cipal seat  of  vegetable  life;  or,  in  other  words,  the  organized  covering  called  the 
bark  of  plants,  is  the  original  raw  material  (if  I  may  so  term  it)  from  which  are 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM.     295 

nearly  united  in  regarding  it  as  true.     All  the  portions  of  the 
flower  that  pertain  to   fructification — the  calyx,  the  corolla, 
the  petals,  the  pistils,  stamens,  ovula,  and  fruit — are  but  devel- 
oped or  modified  leaves.     He  who   merely  judges  by  unin- 
structed  sense  cannot  believe  it ;  he  cannot  persuade  himself 
that  the  pure  white  petals  of  the  lily,  the  red,  blushing  rose, 
the  sweet-scented  jasmine  or  orange  flower,  the  long,  trum- 
pet-shaped blossom  of  the  honeysuckle  can  be  merely  trans- 
formed leaves.     Let  him,  however,  under  the  guidance  of  a 
skilful  Botanist,  compare  the  one  with  the  other  in  respect  to 
anatomical  structure,  arrangement  around  a  common  axis,  dis- 
position on  a  certain  plan  with  respect  to  each  other,  and  the 
laws  by  which  they  are  developed,  and  his  doubts  will  prob- 
ably vanish.     He  will  see  clear  evidence  that  the  Creator  can 
employ  one   organ  for  a  great  variety  of  different  purposes, 
and  cause  it  to  pass  through  several  different  forms,  and  in 
that  fact  he  will  see  additional  proof  of  the  Wisdom  and  Unity 
of  the  Godhead. 

So  with  Animals.  Take  the  vertebrated  classes  for  an  ex- 
ample. It  was  suggested,  by  the  same  great  poet  and  natural- 
ist, that  one  organ  in  the  skeleton  might  be  the  basis  on  which  all 
parts  of  the  skeleton  of  all  vertebrated  animals  are  constructed. 
A  single  vertebra  was  the  type  selected,  and  the  hypothesis  was 
that,  by  enlarging  and  modifying  the  spinous  processes  of  all 
the  vertebrae,  we  should  get  the  necessary  cavities  for  the  spinal 
marrow  on  one  side  of  the  backbone,  and  for  the  heart,  lungs, 
and  stomach  on  the  other.  This  hint  has  been  worked  upon 
with  all  the  diligence  and  enthusiasm  which  characterize  the 
transcendental  Anatomists  of  Germany,  and  it  seems  likely  to 
take  its  place  beside  the  doctrine  of  the  metamorphosis  of 

formed  all  those  multiform  organs  or  appendages  to  the  stem  and  branches  known 
by  the  name  of  Leaves,  Stipules,  Bracts,  Involucres,  Glumes,  Calyces,  Corollas, 
Nectaries,  Stamens,  Pistils."  See  Dr.  Darlington's  "  Essay  on  the  Development 
and  Modifications  of  the  External  Organs  of  Plants." 


296  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

leaves.*  As  between  different  vetebratcd  animals,  it  is  certain 
that  there  are  affinities  or  (as  comparative  Anatomists  of  our 
day  would  rather  term  them)  homologies  where  we  should  little 
expect  them.  Thus,  the  longest- necked  Quadruped  at  present 
known,  and  the  shortest-necked,  have  the  same  number  of 
bones  in  the  neck, — the  giraffe  the  same  as  the  hog  or  mole. 
And  the  bones  which  we  recognize  in  the  paddle  of  the  turtle 
are,  by  slight  changes  and  gradations,  adjusted  so  as  to  form 
the  fin  of  the  whale,  the  wing  of  the  bird,  and  the  paw,  foot, 
or  hoof  of  the  land  mammifers.f 

{d)  Consider,  finally,  tJie  harmony  and  correspondence  of  the 
several  parts  and  organs  ivhich  go  to  make  7ip  the  same  indi- 
vidual. There  is  that  which  can  be  explained  only  by  assum- 
ing that  one  Intelligent  Mind  has  put  these  parts  together. 
The  adjustment  is  such  that  a  material  change  in  any  one 
part  would  require  a  corresponding  readjustment  of  the  entire 
structure.  Nothing  is  isolated  or  incongruous.  We  may,  in 
succession,  consider  each  organ  as  being  the  principal,  and 
then  we  shall  find,  on  examination,  that  every  other  organ 
will  seem  to  have  been  constructed  with  special  and  most 
skilful  reference  to  it.  Hence  it  has  been  well  said  that  an 
organized  substance  is  one,  all  the  parts  of  which  may  be 
considered  as  mutually  means  and  ends.|  Suppose,  for  in- 
stance, that  the  teeth  of  any  animal  underwent  a  material 
change  as  to  form,  constituent  material,  and  mode  of  inter- 
action.    Imagine  a  lion  supplied  only  with  the  molar  teeth 


*  An  attempt  has  been  made  by  P"rench  Anatomists  and  Zoologists  to  show 
that  insects  and  molluscous  animals  might  be  included  within  the  same  plan  of 
structure  as  the  vertebrates.  It  led  to  a  very  animated  controversy,  towards  the 
close  of  Cuvier's  life,  between  that  eminent  Philosopher,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
Geoffroy  St.-Hilaire,  Latreille,  etc.,  on  the  other.  See  Whewell's  History  of 
the  Inductive  Sciences,  Book  xvii.  chap.  vii.  sec.  2,  3. 

■}■  Harris's  Preadamite  Earth,  p.  272. 

X  Kant,  as  quoted  in  Whewell's  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  vol.  ii. 
ch.  iii. 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM.     297 

of  an  ox.  Nothing  but  an  entire  reconstruction  of  the  animal, 
in  order  to  conform  his  other  parts  and  organs  to  this  new 
state  of  things,  would  enable  him  to  live.  His  brain,  his  jaws, 
and  the  articulation  of  his  jaws,  the  muscular  development 
around  the  head  and  neck,  the  stomach  and  intestines,  the 
legs  and  feet,  must  all  be  altered,  and  from  a  beast  of  prey 
he  must  be  transformed  into  an  ox  that  eateth  hay. 

Or,  consider  tivo  great  divisions  of  aiiunals  W\t\\  respect  to 
the  food  on  which  they  subsist.     Take  the  carnivorous  tiger 
and  compare  him  with  the  herbivorous  quadrupeds.     In  the 
former,  dependent  for  his  subsistence  on  his  cunning  as  well 
as  strength,  there  is  more  occasion  for  brain,  and  hence  the 
cranial  cavity  is  of  larger  dimensions  than  in  the  cow  or  horse. 
The  face  is  shorter,  so  that  the  power  of  the  muscles  which 
move  the  head  may  be  advantageously  applied.     In  the  one 
case,  the  front  teeth  are  strong  and  pointed,  and  by  the  scis- 
sors-like action  of  the  jaw  they  are  kept  constantly  sharp. 
In  the  other,  they  are  few  and  small,  but  the  surfaces  of  the 
grinding  teeth  are  extended,  are  kept  constantly  rough  by  the 
alternation  of  bone  and  enamel,  and  act  against  each  other 
with  much  of  lateral  motion.     In  the  carnivora,  the  fossa  in 
which  the  temporal  muscle  is  imbedded  is  very  large,  and  the 
muscle  itself  is  attached  to  the  jaw  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
apply  the  power  most  advantageously  to  the  resistance.     In 
the  lierbivora,  the  temporal  fossa  is  comparatively  small,  no 
powerful  biting  motion  being  required,  by  the  nature  of  the 
food  or  the  mode  of  obtaining  it.     In  the  former,  the  spinous 
processes  of  the  vertebrfe  of  the  back  and  neck  are  very  strong 
and  prominent,  giving  attachment  to  powerful   muscles  for 
raising  the  head,  to  enable  the  animal  to  carry  off  his  prey. 
In  the  other,  the  corresponding  muscles  are  powerful,  in  order 
to  the  raising  and  supporting  of  the  head  itself,  which  is  heavy. 
The  carnivora,  needing  both  agility  and  strength,  have  the 
bones  of  their  extremities  disposed  in  such  a  manner  as  best  to 
secure  both ;  the  joints  having  round  sockets  that  admit  both 


2q3  the  three  witnesses. 

of  pronation  and  supination,  and  the  foot  being  separated  into 
toes,  which  are  armed  with  retractile  claws.  The  Jicrbivora 
have  extremities  more  solidly  formed,  with  but  little  freedom 
of  motion,  the  shoulder  being  scarcely  more  than  a  hinge- 
joint,  and  the  toes  being  consolidated  and  inserted  into  a  hoof, 
which  is  double  or  single,  according  as  the  animal  ruminates 
or  not.  These  contrasts  might  be  extended  to  almost  any 
length  ;  and  they  seem  to  show  that  one  purpose  has  reigned 
throughout  the  construction  of  the  whole  of  each  animal,  con- 
sidered  separately,  just  as  their  mutual  resemblances  show 
that  both  emanated  from  the  same  presiding  Intelligence. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  LIFE-POWER  A   WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE   WISDOM. 

Continued. 

WE  proceed  now  to  examine  the  Wisdom  of  the  Creator 
of  Hving  and  organized  beings  by  the  light  of  the  third 
criterion,  which  was  laid  down  in  the  opening  of  the  last 
chapter.  We  judge,  it  was  said,  of  the  Wisdom,  as  well  as 
of  the  other  attributes  of  an  Intelligent  Agent,  by  the  e7tds 
which  He  selects  and  by  the  means  which  He  adopted  for  the 
attainment  of  t J  lose  ends. 

What  ends,  then,  are  to  be  attained  by  the  laws  and  opera- 
tions of  Life  on  the  Earth  ?  In  endeavoring  to  answer  this 
question,  we  would  not  forget  the  diffidence  with  which  it 
always  becomes  us  to  express  ourselves  on  such  subjects. 
We  cannot  consider,  properly,  how  much  Science  and  ex- 
perience have  already  done  to  enlarge  and  rectify  our  con- 
ceptions respecting  the  ends  to  be  answered  by  organized 
beings,  nor  can  we  reflect,  as  we  ought,  on  the  narrow  range,, 
both  of  space  and  time,  over  which  our  intellects  can  ex- 
patiate (contrasted  with  the  boundless  realms  ever  present  to 
the  Intelligence  of  God),  without  feeling  that  when  we  speak 
of  his  purposes  we  should  speak  with  modesty,  and  remember 
that  the  Most  High  is  in  heaven  and  we  on  the  earth  ;  our 
words,  therefore,  should  be  few. 

But  because  we  are  unable  to  attain  the  knowledge  of  all 
God's  purposes,  it  by  no  means  follows  that  we  must  remain 
in  ignorance  of  every  one  of  them.  This  is  the  skeptic's 
error,  and  it  stands  in  direct  opposition  to  that  of  the  pre- 
sumptuous Dogmatist.     The  skeptic  goes  so  far  even  as  to 

(299) 


300 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


affirm  that  the  fitness  of  means  to  produce  certain  ends  is  no 
proof  that  those  ends  were  intended,  no  evidence  that  mind 
has  been  employed  in  preconceiving  and  preordaining  the  ad- 
justment. Having  examined  this  doctrine  in  previous  parts 
of  this  work,  we  will  only  remark  that  the  disposition  to  infer 
design  from  such  adjustments  is  instinctive  and  irrepressible. 
It  displays  itself  early  and  universally  in  untutored  children. 
It  extorts  reluctant  admissions  even  from  sophisticated  and 
unbelieving  philosophy.  Kant,  though  not  an  unbeliever,  yet 
maintains,  in  his  "Critique  of  the  Pure  Reason,"  that  the  being 
of  a  God  cannot  be  demonstrated  on  grounds  purely  scientific, 
but  only  by  an  appeal  to  our  moral  nature.  Still,  when  he 
comes  to  define  organized  bodies,  he  does  it  in  the  manner  al- 
ready quoted,  and  adds  that,  when  we  investigate  their  struct- 
ure, we  are  obliged  to  assume,  as  indispensably  necessary, 
this  maxim,  that  in  such  a  creature  nothing  is  in  vain,  and  to 
proceed  upon  it,  in  the  same  way  in  which,  in  general  Natural 
Philosophy,  we  proceed  upon  the  principle  that  notlung  hap- 
pens  by  chance.^  So  Cabanis,  one  of  the  skeptical  Physiolo- 
gists and  Ideologists  of  France,  after  expressing  his  dislike 
to  the  Introduction  of  Final  Causes  into  Physiology,  candidly 
admits  that  "  it  is  very  difficult  for  the  most  cautious  man 
never  to  have  recourse  to  them  in  his  explanations,"  and  that 
in  no  case  do  the  means  employed  appear  so  clearly,  relative 
to  the  end,  as  "  in  the  laws  which  preside  and  the  circum- 
stances of  all  kinds  which  concur  in  the  reproduction  of 
living  races."  It  is  the  same  with  Bichat,  another  eminent 
writer  of  the  same  school.  Noting  the  difference  between  the 
measure  of  sensibility  possessed  by  the  vegetative  or  vital 
organs  of  animals,  and  by  their  voluntary  organs,  he  says, 
"  No  doubt  it  will  be  asked,  ivhy  the  organs  of  internal  life 
have  received  from  Nature  an  inferior  degree  of  sensibility 
only,  and  w^hy  they  do  not  transmit  to  the  brain  the  impres- 


1 


*  Kant.     See  Whewell's  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences. 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM. 


301 


sions  they  receive,  while  all  the  acts  of  animal  life  imply  this 
transmission.  The  reason  is  simply  this,  that  all  the  phe- 
nomena which  establish  our  connections  with  surrounding 
objects  ought  to  be,  and  are,  in  fact,  under  the  influence  of  the 
will,  while  all  those  which  serve  for  the  purpose  of  assimila- 
tion only  escape,  and  ought  indeed  to  escape,  such  influence." 
It  need  hardly  be  said  that,  in  this  explanation,  the  author 
merely  assigns  what  is  usually  called  the  Final  Cause,  and 
thereby  implies,  in  the  clearest  manner,  that  in  considering 
such  facts  we  must  refer  for  their  origin  to  an  Intelligent  and 
Ordaining  purpose. 

The  inference  which  is  thus  made  intuitively  alike  by  all — 
the  unt'itored  and  the  scientific — is  an  inference  justified  by 
our  experience.  Whenever,  among  results  effected  by  human 
power,  we  discern  means  adapted  to  these  results,  we  con- 
clude there  has  been  Intelligent  Foresight  and  Design.  The 
contrivances  of  insects  have  been  appealed  to,  however,  as 
proof  that  there  may  be  adaptations  of  the  most  consummate 
perfection,  when  there  has  been  no  free  personal  intelligence, 
and  that  if  we  build  our  Theological  arguments,  therefore,  on 
nothing  but  contrivances,  we  leave  it  to  be  inferred  that  the 
Wisdom  of  the  Godhead  is  nothing  but  the  instinctive  work- 
ings of  a  blind  adaptive  power.  We  answer,  that  no  one 
believes  that  a  blind,  unconscious,  adaptive  power  produces 
such  works  as  those  of  the  bee  or  the  ant.  As  the  works  of 
a  being  without  self-consciousness,  forecaste,  or  power  of  gen- 
eralization and  abstraction,  they  are  perfectly  inexplicable,  and 
it  is  only  when  we  assume  that  the  insect  is  guided  by  an 
Intelligence  infinitely  higher  than  his  own  that  we  can  re- 
concile his  achievements  to  our  intuitive  convictions  in  respect 
to  the  relation  between  cause  and  effect. 


302 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


FINAL    CAUSES. 


But  again,  the  legitimacy  of  the  religious  inferences,  which 
we  found  on  adaptations  in  the  organic  world,  seems  to  be 
indicated  by  the  success  with  which  the  assumption  of  Design 
has  been  crowned.  To  that  assumption  we  owe  some  of  the 
most  useful  and  brilliant  of  the  recent  discoveries  in  Physi- 
ology and  Zoology.  When  Harvey,  the  discoverer  of  the 
double  circulation  of  the  blood,  was  asked  by  Sir  Robert 
Boyle,  "  What  induced  him  to  think  of  the  circulation  of  the 
blood,"  he  replied,  "  When  I  took  notice  that  the  valves  in 
the  veins  were  so  placed  that  they  gave  a  free  passage  to  the 
blood  towards  the  heart,  but  opposed  the  passage  of  the  venal 
blood  the  contrary  way,  /  ^uas  incited  to  imagine  that  so  prov- 
ident a  cause  as  Nature  had  not  placed  so  many  valves  without 
design,  and  no  design  seemed  more  probable  than  that,  since 
the  blood  could  not  well,  because  of  the  interposing  valves, 
be  sent  by  the  veins  to  the  limbs,  it  should  be  sent  through 
the  arteries  and  return  through  the  veins,  whose  valves  did 
not  oppose  its  course  that  way."  Here  the  preconceived  idea 
of  a  Provident  First  Cause  was  the  clue  which  guided  the  dis- 
coverer in  drawing  aside  the  veil  which  had  hitherto  obscured 
a  portion  of  his  works.  It  was  the  same  with  Cuvier.  W^ien 
the  mutilated  and  incomplete  fragments  of  a  hundred  skeletons, 
belonging  to  twenty  sorts  of  animals,  were  placed  before  him, 
pell-mell,  and  it  was  required  that  each  bone  should  be  joined 
to  that  which  it  belonged  to,  how  did  he  proceed  ?  He  went 
on  the  supposition — -first,  ihdit  animal  forms  hsLve  some  plan, 
some  purpose ;  and  secondly,  that  that  plan  is  intelligible, 
that  purpose  one  that  can  be  discovered, —  at  least  in  part. 
He  assumed,  further,  that  all  the  different  parts  of  each  being 
must  be  so  co-ordinated  as  to  render  the  total  being  possible, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  fitted  to  attain  the  ends  of  its  existence. 
Guided  by  the  light  of  this  familiar  but  yet  (as  applied  by 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM.     303 

him)  novel  principle,  order  was  educed  out  of  confusion.  He 
was  enabled  to  reconstruct  and  portray  the  forms  of  animals 
long  since  extinct,  and  of  which  he  had  only  inconsidera- 
ble fragments  in  a  fossil  state.  "  I  have  no  expression,"  he 
says,*  "  to  describe  the  pleasure  experienced  in  perceiving 
that,  as  I  discovered  one  character,  all  the  consequences,  more 
or  less  foreseen  of  this  character,  were  fully  developed.  The 
feet  were  conformable  to  what  the  teeth  had  announced,  and 
the  teeth  to  the  feet ;  the  bones  of  the  legs  and  thighs,  and 
everything  that  ought  to  ;runite  these  two  extreme  parts, 
were  conformable  to  each  other.  In  one  word,  each  of  the 
species  sprung  up  from  one  of  its  own  elements."  Whoever 
is  acquainted  with  the  discoveries  of  this  eminent  man,  knows 
that  they  include  many  of  the  most  important  generalizations 
which  Zoology  now  embraces,  and  it  is  hardly  conceivable 
that  a  principle  which  conducted  to  such  results  can  be  other- 
wise than  true.f 

Recurring,  then,  to  the  argument  from  final  causes  as  one 
not  to  be  refuted,  we  are  prepared  to  ask,  what  discoverable 
ends  does  the  Creator  seem  to  have  proposed  to  Himself  in  the 
Constitution  of  living  creatures?  In  attempting  a  reply  to 
the  inquiry,  there  are  one  or  two  suggestions  which  we  feel 
bound  to  interpose.  All  speculations  and  conclusions  in  re- 
gard to  the  end,  ox  final  cause  of  organic  structure,  should  be 
qualified,  as  we  have  already  observed,  with  caution  and  with 
reverence. 

I.  With  Caution.  We  are  not  to  suppose  because  tve  have 
not  discovered  an  adaptation  that  therefore  there  is  none.  It 
will  require  all  the  combined  researches  of  all  the  physi- 
ologists of  the  world,  protracted  through  successive  ages,  to 


*  Bakewell's  Introduction  to  Geology,  p.  235,  236. 

f  The  teleology  of  Cuvier,  and  writers  of  his  school,  has  received  an  impor- 
tant addition  in  the  generalization  of  Professor  Owen,  respecting  Homologies, 
furnished  by  a  comparison  of  corresponding  parts  of  different  animals. 


304  ^^^^    THREE    IVirNESSES. 

find  out  even  a  small  part  of  the  beneficent  ends  attained 
through  the  organization  and  functions  of  living  creatures. 
Investigation,  when  thorough  and  properly  conducted,  rarely 
fails  to  rebuke  the  presumption  of  those  who  would  hastily 
infer,  in  respect  to  any  creature,  that  it  is  imperfectly  formed. 
That  was  the  opinion  of  Buffon,  and  other  naturalists,  in  re- 
spect to  the  Slotli,  and  to  animals  of  the  same  genus.  "At- 
tempts of  Nature,  in  which  she  seems  to  have  amused  herself 
by  producing  something  imperfect  and  grotesque,"  were  the 
terms  in  which  they  thought  proper  to  express  their  com- 
passion for  these  ill-fated  creatures.  It  was  misplaced  com- 
passion. Travellers  —  especially  Waterton — have  carefully 
examined  the  habits  and  resources  of  this  animal,  and  the 
conclusion  is  that,  if  we  consider  him  with  respect  to  his  in- 
tended habitation  and  mode  of  life,  the  sloth  is  admirably 
formed.  He  was  intended  to  obtain  food  and  shelter  from 
natural  enemies  among  the  branches  of  trees ;  and  when  we 
place  him  on  the  ground,  and  infer  his  malformation  because 
he  cannot  run  or  fly,  we  proceed  as  wisely  as  we  should  if  we 
inveighed  against  our  own  organization  because  we  have  no 
wings,  or  against  that  of  a  fish  because  he  is  helpless  and 
wretched  out  of  water. 

Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  because  we  can  discover  some  ends 
attained,  some  plan  preconceived  and  executed,  are  we  to 
suppose  that  therefore  we  have  discovered  the  whole.  Our 
position  before  the  great  system  of  animated  nature  is  that  of 
a  spectator  before  a  veiled  picture.  Aided  by  those  who  have 
been  before  us,  we  can  lift  one  and  another  part  of  the  veil 
and  gain  a  view  of  some  portion  of  the  figures  beneath.  We 
can  infer  from  attitudes,  coloring,  lineaments  of  countenance, 
some  of  the  passions  and  actions  which  the  artist  intended  to 
express.  But  he  only  who  surveys  the  majestic  and  har- 
monious whole  can  read  or  even  conjecture  the  highest  pur- 
poses proposed  and  attained.  We  therefore  wait  till  larger 
and  larger  portions  come  into  view,  nothing  doubting  that  at 


LIFE-POWER   A    WITNESS   FOR   DIVINE    WISDOM.     305 

every  step  we  shall  see  a  new  significance,  and  that  nobler 
and  nobler  conceptions  of  creative  skill  will  break  upon  us. 

Nor  let  it  be  supposed  that  there  can  be  no  final  cause 
unless  it  bear  on  the  happiness  or  welfare  of  men.  Man,  in 
his  pride  and  self-confidence,  is  too  prone  to  make  himself 
the  pivot  on  which  all  the  Creator's  plans  must  turn, — the 
central  object  towards  which  everything  must  converge.  Let 
him  remember  that  he  is  but  one  among  unnumbered  orders 
of  beings,  some  ranging  higher  in  the  scale  of  intelligence, 
some  lower,  but  all  waiting  on  the  bounty  and  needing  the 
care  of  the  one  Father.  None  are  too  exalted  to  be  above 
his  sovereign  control,  none  too  lowly  to  be  beneath  his  pa- 
rental supervision.  Wonder  not,  then,  if  this  world  of  life 
about  us  has  other  uses  than  to  subserve  our  comfort  or  well- 
being.  Wonder  not  if  angelic  hosts,  cherubim  and  seraphim, 
are  to  find  here,  in  a  far-off  world,  other  objects  for  profitable 
contemplation  or  holy  discipline  or  charitable  ministration. 
Wonder  not  if  groves  have  been  made  vocal  even  to  please 
the  senses  of  inferior  animals,  and  floral  and  autumnal  beauties 
scattered,  with  prodigal  hand,  where  there  is  no  human  eye 
to  see,  nor  human  sense  to  be  regaled,  but  where  quadru- 
peds, birds,  insects,  and  minute  creatures  may  be  present  in 
countless  numbers  to  enjoy,  and,  enjoying,  to  proclaim  a  senti- 
ment other  and  more  Christian  than  the  poet's — 

"  Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air." 

There  is  no  desert  air  where  God's  immensity  dwells.  Though 
his  own  were  the  only  Presence  which  cheers  some  distan" 
solitude,  it  would  still  justify  the  working  of  ever-renewed 
wonders  in  the  organic  world. 

2.  We  suggest,  further,  that  when  we  address  ourselves  to 
the  study  of  final  causes  we  should  strive  to  do  it  in  a  reverent 
and  religions  spirit.  We  should  strive  to  carry  our  view  be- 
yond the  mere  adjustments  before  us  to  the  ever-present  ad- 

20 


3o6  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

justing  Mind.  We  should  beware  lest,  becoming  too  much 
engrossed  in  the  contemplation  of  the  thing  formed,  we  forget 
Him  that  formed  it.  In  every  object  which  emanated  from 
the  Creator's  hand,  especially  in  every  living  organized  object, 
we  should  behold  a  Representative  of  his  Eternal  Power,  and 
a  transparent  medium  through  which  we  can  read  the  mani- 
fold Wisdom  and  Goodness  of  Him  in  whom  all  live.  How 
easy  it  is  for  us  to  impart  opacity  to  beings  and  objects  which 
God  has  constituted  to  be  transparent !  How  perversely 
bent,  as  it  might  seem,  men  are  to  obscure  those  clear  revela- 
tions, those  expressive  vestiges  and  footprints,  which  the 
Creator  has  everywhere  left  behind  Him  !  When  we  yield 
to  that  propensity,  so  mournful  and  malign,  we  gain  from 
the  survey  of  living  creatures,  from  the  study  of  Natural  His- 
tory, only  an  earthly,  sensual  Wisdom.  If  we  would  render 
it  to  our  minds  the  source  of  that  true  Wisdom  which  comes 
from  above,  and  which  at  once  clarifies  the  understanding 
and  purifies  the  heart,  we  should  go  to  it  with  all  our  religious 
instincts  in  vigorous  action.  We  should  go  with  the  desire, 
earnest  and  active,  that  with  unfolding  knowledge  there  may 
spring  up  ever-growing  conceptions  of  Infinite  Power  and 
Goodness.  Then  shall  that  delightful  study  be  more  than  a 
companion  for  our  solitude,  more  than  a  relief  from  ennui,  or 
a  solace  under  the  unavoidable  calamities  of  life.  It  shall  do 
more  than  extend  our  natural  knowledge :  it  shall  strengthen 
our  moral  convictions.  It  shall  more  than  beguile  the  tedious 
hours  of  some  protracted  journey.  It  shall  point  us  ever  on- 
wards and  upwards  towards  the  Traveller's  Eternal  Rest.  It 
shall  declare — 

"  For  what  the  Eternal  Maker  has  ordained 
The  powers  of  man;  we'll  feel  within  ourselves 
His  energy  divine;  He'll  tell  the  heart 
He  meant,  He  made  us  to  behold  and  love 
What  He  beholds  and  loves,  the  general  orb 
Of  life  and  being ;  to  be  great  like  Him, 
Beneficent  and  active.     Thus  the  men 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM.     307 

Whom  Nature's  works  can  charm,  with  God  Himself 
Hold  converse;   grow  familiar,  day  by  day, 
With  His  conceptions ;  act  upon  His  plan. 
And  form  to  His,  the  relish  of  their  souls." 

The  question,  then,  recurs,  what  ends  has  the  Creator 
in  view  in  the  constitution  of  living  creatures?  To  some 
(plants)  He  has  given  only  life.  To  others  (animals)  He  has 
given,  besides  life,  susceptibility  to  pleasure  and  pain,  and  the 
power  of  voluntary  motion.  To  a  third  class  (men)  He  has 
given  not  only  life  and  sensibility,  but  also  reason,  taken  in 
its  true  and  highest  sense,  as  including  the  perception  both 
of  general  truths  and  of  moral  distinctions.  All  organic  beings 
agree  in  possessing  life  ;  to  animals  has  been  given  the  further 
prerogative  of  feeling  and  voluntary  motion  ;  to  man  the  yet 
further  prerogative  of  rational  thought. 

Wherever  there  is  life,  it  may  be  assumed  that  it  has  its 
office,  and  therefore  its  value.  Hence  the  viaiiiteiiance  of  Life 
must  be  (i)  one  ^«^  proposed  by  the  Creator.  By  considering 
some  of  the  means  which  He  employs  for  the  purpose  we 
shall  be  able  to  judge  of  his  Wisdom. 

To  beings  who  have  capacity  for  enjoyment  and  suffering, 
it  must  be  pleasant  to  possess  the  former  and  escape  the 
other.  Here,  then,  is  (2)  anotJier  end,  and  by  the  manner  in 
which  it  is  advanced  in  the  Economy  of  living  creatures  we 
can  judge  both  of  the   Wisdom  and  of  tlie  Benevolence  of  God. 

To  rational  and  moral  Beings  like  men,  enjoyment  is  desira- 
ble, and  that  also  which  is  higher  than  mere  enjoyment, — 
true  welfare.  Hence,  by  considering  the  provisions  which  the 
Creator  has  introduced  into  the  laws  of  life  for  promoting  this 
twofold  object,  we  can  judge  of  his  Wisdom,  his  Benevolence, 
and  his  Holiness. 

In  thus  speaking  of  Power,  Wisdom,  and  Holiness  as  dis- 
tinct attributes  of  God,  we  yield  to  a  necessity  created  by  the 
weakness  of  our  own  faculties,  rather  than  set  forth  a  substan- 
tive truth.     In  proportion  as  our  conceptions  of  the  Creator's 


3o8 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


perfections  rise,  in  the  same  proportion  we  shall  feel  that,  in 
every  act  of  his,  all  his  attributes,  both  natural  and  moral, 
must  take  part.  Power  is  evidently  implied  in  every  efficient 
act  of  Wisdom.  Both  Wisdom  and  Power  are  necessary  to 
every  effectual  effort  of  Benevolence,  and  in  a  Sovereign,  or 
Father,  we  can  hardly  conceive  of  a  perfect  righteousness 
which  has  not  been  tempered  by  Mercy,  guided  by  Wisdom, 
and  upheld  and  vindicated  by  Power. 


DIVINE  WISDOM    INDICATED    IN    MEANS    FOR    UPHOLDING    LIFE    IN 

PLANTS. 

The  viaijitejiance  of  Life,  then,  is  the  first  ^;/^  which  we  are 
to  consider,  and  we  are  to  inquire  how  far  the  appointed  means 
indicate  Wisdom.  We  shall  confine  our  illustrations  to  the 
vegetable  world,  not  because  they  are  the  most  striking,  but 
because,  in  this  respect,  they  are  directly  expressive  of  Wisdom 
only.  When  we  come,  under  the  next  head,  to  set  forth  the 
Benevolence  of  God,  none  of  our  examples  can  be  derived 
immediately  from  that  source. 

Look  {a)  at  the  provisions  for  protecting  the  individual  plant 
during  its  allotted  period ;  [b]  at  the  provisions  for  securing 
an  unbroken  succession  of  plants  of  the  same  species ;  {c)  at 
the  reciprocal  agency  of  different  tribes  of  plants,  and  also  id) 
of  plants  and  animals. 

[a)  Let  us  trace  the  plant  from  the  moment  of  its  germina- 
tion. The  opening  germ  finds  itself  imbedded  in  precisely 
that  substance  (forming  a  large  part  of  every  seed)  which  con- 
stitutes its  appropriate  nourishment.  It  is  necessary,  further, 
that  the  rising  plant  be  firmly  rooted  and  anchored  in  the  soil. 
Therefore,  this  opening  germ  puts  forth  a  radicle,  which  pushes 
downwards,  forming  a  deep  foundation  in  the  earth.  This 
plant  again  must  derive  its  aliment  in  part  from  the  soil; 
therefore  it  puts  forth  in  every  direction  its  delicate  root-fibres, 
which  spread  themselves  like  a  net  over  all  the  nutritious 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM.     309 

matter  in  the  adjacent  ground ;  and  these  root-fibres  are  pro- 
vided with  an  apparatus  for  selecting  and  absorbing  that  only 
which  will  be  appropriate  to  the  particular  plant  in  question. 
Again,  not  only  must  this  plant  sustain  relations  to  the  ground  ; 
other  and  not  less  important  relations  it  must  sustain  to  the  air, 
to  sunlight,  to  moisture.  Hence,  while  its  radicle  pushes  down- 
wards, its  plumule,  or  incipient  stem,  presses  upwards,  pro- 
tected, perchance,  by  two  fleshy  lobes  (cotyledons),  which  close 
over  it  like  a  helmet  and  visor,  and  enable  it  to  encounter 
unharmed  the  resistance  of  the  hard  incumbent  earth.  Ush- 
ered into  the  air  and  light,  it  retains  these  same  lobes  (for  a 
time)  as  leaves,  or  as  covering  against  frost ;  or  it  is  supplied 
for  that  purpose  with  protecting  spines,  which  arrest  the  con- 
gealing vapor.  Its  texture  is  such  that  it  bends  before  the 
fierce  blast,  and,  as  its  tender  buds  appear,  the  leaves  gather 
about  them  hard  scales,  exuding,  perhaps,  some  resinous  or 
gummy  matter;  or  these  buds  may  clothe  themselves  in  a 
deep  covering  of  wool. 

Or,  look  at  the  leaves  themselves.  They  perform  the  office 
of  the  lung  and  stomach  in  animals,  and  with  what  amazing 
precision  and  simplicity  !  To  the  naked  eye  they  appear  but 
flat  plates  of  cellular  tissue  traversed  by  veins.  Very  different 
do  they  seem  when  seen  through  the  microscope.  They  are 
to  evaporate  water,  to  expire  oxygen,  and  inspire  carbonic 
acid.  To  prevent  their  being  disqualified  for  this  office  by 
atmospheric  vicissitudes,  from  being  parched  in  dry  weather 
and  surcharged  with  moisture  in  wet,  they  are  inclosed  in  a 
cuticle  "  scarcely  pervious  to  either  air  or  moisture ;  and  in 
this  cuticle  are  placed  many  mouths  (called  stomata),  which 
have  the  power  of  opening  and  closing  (according  to  the  state 
of  the  atmosphere  or  of  the  leaf  itself),  to  regulate  the  absorp- 
tion or  respiration  of  either  water  or  air.  And,  in  order  to 
expose  the  tissue  lying  beneath  this  cuticle  to  the  greatest 
possible  atmospheric  influence,  the  leaf  is  not  a  solid  mass,  as 
it  appears  to  be,  but  is  traversed  in  all  directions  by  passages 


210  ^-^-^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

terminating  in  the  mouths  and  opening  into  cavities,  where  the 
air  both  of  absorption  and  exhalation  can  freely  circulate  and 
pass  in  or  out  so  long  as  the  mouths  permit.  Nor  is  this  all. 
Many  leaves  are  constantly  submerged  in  water,  where  they 
are  free  from  atmospheric  vicissitudes,  and  can  neither  absorb 
carbonic  acid  from  the  air  nor  discharge  oxygen  into  it.  It 
is  therefore  obvious  that  the  curious  provision  that  has  been 
made  for  the  ren-ulation  of  aerial  leaves  would  be  useless  in 
submerged  ones,  and,  accordingly,  we  find  that  the  latter  have 
neither  cuticle,  nor  mouths,  nor  cavernous  parenchyma,  but 
are  thin,  solid  plates,  the  whole  surface  of  whose  cellular  sub- 
stance is  in  direct  contact  with  the  water,  from  the  air  con- 
tained in  which  the  leaves  must  exclusively  derive  their  nu- 
triment.* 

{b)  From  the  means  of  self-preservation,  with  which  the 
plant  is  provided,  turn  to  its  apparatus  for  reproduction, — for 
propagating  other  individuals  of  its  own  species.  We  have 
already  seen  how  creative  foresight  is  employed  in  preparing 
a  plant  for  the  exhaustive  process  of  seed-bearing,  and  what 
multitudes  of  plants,  expending  all  their  energies  in  the  pro- 
cess, die  immediately  after.  The  stamens  and  pistils,  which 
must  co-operate  in  the  act  of  fecundation,  are  separate  organs, 
situated  sometimes  on  the  same  flower,  sometimes  on  different 
flowers  on  the  same  plant,  and  sometimes  on  different  plants. 
For  the  various  meansf  by  which  the  pollen  of  the  one  is 
brought  in  contact  with  the  germ  of  the  other,  we  must  refer 
to  works  on  Vegetable  Physiology.  No  one  can  examine 
them  without  being  filled  with  amazement  at  the  boundless 
fertility  of  resource  and  the  precise  adaptations  which  they 
exhibit.  The  seed,  when  finally  perfected,  is,  in  its  structure, 
in  its  position,  and  in  the  provisions  made  for  its  dispersion, 


*  Lindley. 

f  One  of  these  means  is  the  agency  of  insects,  like  the  bee,  which,  in  piissing 
from  flower  to  flower,  carries  with  it  tlie  fertili/.ing  dust. 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM. 


311 


an  impressive  monument  of  Divine  Wisdom.  It  is  protected 
from  injury  in  some  cases  (cocoanut,  hickory-nut,  etc.)  by  an 
extremely  hard  covering  ;  in  others  (peas,  beans,  etc.),  by  a 
strong  leguminous  capsule ;  in  others,  by  being  imbedded  in 
the  pulp  of  rich  fruit,  that  is  eaten  by  animals,  in  which  case 
the  seed  is  usually  made  impervious  to  the  action  of  the  gas- 
tric juice. 

Consider  the  manifold  ways  in  which  seeds  having  no  vol- 
untary powers  of  locomotion  are  dispersed  over  the  earth ! 
In  one  class,  such  as  balsam  and  catch-fly,  we  find  clastic 
springs  attached  to  the  seed-vessels,  which  open  with  such 
force  that  the  seed  is  projected  to  a  distance.  In  many  of  these 
(puff-balls,  for  example),  which  burst  at  the  top  like  the  crater 
of  a  volcano,  the  seed  is  so  fine  and  so  abundant  that  it  is 
scattered  abroad  by  the  air  like  a  volume  of  smoke.  In  other 
and  heavier  kinds,  air,  also,  is  the  great  agent  of  dissemina- 
tion. The  elm-seed  is  furnished  with  a  circular  and  mem- 
branous wing,  on  which  it  floats  like  a  bird;  the  maple-seed 
has  two  large  side- wings;  the  thistle  and  dandelion  a  feathery 
crown  or  tuft,  which  may  be  compared  to  the  parachute  of  a 
balloon,  except  that  it  answers  the  double  purpose  of  lifting 
the  seed  from  the  involucre  (by  the  drying  and  distending  of 
its  constituent  threads)  and  of  so  buoying  it  up  that  it  is 
said  to  have  floated  from  Africa  to  Spain,  and  (as  I>innaeus 
thinks),  in  one  instance,  from  America  to  Europe  (Canadensis 
Erigeron).  Water  is  also  unceasingly  active  in  this  work. 
Many  seeds  have  water-tight  capsules,  and  it  is  said  that  the 
cocoanut  has  floated  from  the  West  Indies  to  Norway.  Every 
flowing  river  and  running  brook  goes  freighted,  at  certain 
seasons,  with  these  depositaries  of  life.  So  it  is  with  descend- 
ing rain,  which  is  useful  in  carrying  seed  into  crevices  of  the 
earth.  But,  perhaps,  more  important  than  all  is  the  agency 
of  animals  and  men.  The  seeds  of  more  than  fifty  genera  of 
clover,  goose-grass,  etc.  are  armed  with  small  hooks,  by  which 
they  lay  hold  of  the  fleeces  of  sheep,  the  hair  of  other  ani- 


312 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


mals,  the  clothes  of  men,  and  are  thus  transported  far  from 
the  parent  plant.  The  stomach  of  animals  supplies  a  vehicle 
for  still  greater  numbers.  Manure  a  field  with  animal  dung, 
and  an  immense  harvest  of  grasses  and  weeds  springs  up 
Seeds,  again,  are  surrounded  with  fruit,  or  they  are  themselves 
fitted  to  be  the  aliment  of  birds  and  mammalia,  that  thus  they 
may  gain  a  lodgment  where  the  means  of  transportation  are 
never  wanting.  At  one  time  the  Dutch,  in  order  to  secure  a 
monopoly  of  the  trade  in  nutmegs,  extirpated  that  plant  from 
several  of  their  islands  in  the  East  Indies ;  but  these  islands 
were  soon  restocked,  through  the  agency  of  birds.  In  their 
annual  migrations  towards  the  North  and  South,  these  ani- 
mals become,  in  the  countries  they  traverse,  the  agents  of  a 
most  extensive  intermixture  of  seeds  that  belong  to  tropical, 
temperate,  and  frigid  regions ;  and  probably  nothing  but  a 
change  of  climate  is  necessary,  in  our  own  latitude,  to  cover 
our  fields  with  a  tropical  or  arctic  vegetation. 

{c)  Still  more  impressive  are  the  provisions  for  sustaining 
vegetable  life,  which  are  found  in  the  reciprocal  agency  of 
separate  plants.  The  higher  plants  employ  those  of  ruder 
structure,  as  pioneers  to  prepare  the  soil  for  their  support. 
Thus,  lichens  take  root  on  the  surface  of  rocks,  abstracting 
nutriment  from  the  surrounding  air,  and  depositing  it  as  soil 
by  their  decay  until,  at  length,  mosses  take  their  place,  and 
carry  forward  the  slow  but  sure  process  till  the  appointed 
time,  when  they,  in  their  turn,  retire  and  make  way  for  shrubs 
and  trees.  On  sandy  beaches,  where  not  even  the  lichen 
could  get  footing,  some  of  the  grasses  with  turfy  roots  con- 
trive to  gain  a  lodgment  and  spread  till  they  cover  what  was 
before  a  drifting  surface  with  a  rude  vegetation ;  and  this  last 
is  soon  succeeded  by  superior  plants.  At  the  bottom  of  lakes 
and  ponds,  aquatic  plants,  by  their  alternate  growth  and  decay, 
deposit  layer  after  layer  of  soil  until  the  water  is  drained  off. 
Large  marshes,  such  as  the  Hyrcinian  forest,  have  been  filled 
up  by  the  agency  of  the  gray  moss,  and  desert  wastes  have 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE    WISDOM. 


313 


been  transformed  into  fruitful  fields  simply  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  xvecds.  "  The  veriest  weeds,"  says  Dr.  Darling- 
ton, "  may  be  the  instruments  of  a  wise  Providence  for  collect- 
ing fertilizing  principles  from  every  falling  shower  or  passing 
breeze,  and  imparting  them  in  turn  to  the  soil,  in  which  they 
are  finally  decomposed." 

"All  the  plants  of  a  given  country,"  says  De  Candolle,  "are 
at  war  with  one  another."  There  is  a  struggle  for  its  exclu- 
sive possession  between  the  earlier  and  later  comers ;  between 
the  more  hardy  or  lasting  and  those  less  so ;  between  those 
more  prolific  and  those  whose  species  multiply  slowly.  The 
result  maybe  that  one  class  monopolize  the  ground,  but  their 
\nctory  is  only  for  a  season.  Gradually  they  abstract  from  the 
soil  those  elements  most  essential  to  their  own  support,  while 
they  at  the  same  time  enrich  it  for  plants  of  another  family. 
Hence  the  rotation  of  trees  which  we  observe  on  cutting  off 
timber.  The  forest  of  oaks  is  replaced,  perhaps,  by  a  forest 
of  pines.  Man's  convertible  husbandry  is  but  an  humble 
imitation  of  his  Creator. 

(d)  But  not  only  is  there  a  mutual  adaptation  between  dif- 
ferent tribes  of  plants :  there  is  adaptation  not  less  striking 
betzveen  plants  and  animals.  Some  plants  are  indebted  to  ani- 
mals for  protection,  some  for  fecundation,  and  some  for  a  check 
upon  their  excessive  luxuriance.  The  tobacco-plant  would 
often  be  destroyed  by  insects  but  for  turkeys,  which  the 
planter  keeps  to  feed  upon  them.  The  defensive  agency  of 
the  turkey,  in  this  instance,  is  but  a  specimen  of  a  most  ex- 
tensive interposition  on  the  part  of  birds  in  favor  of  plants 
against  insects.  "  Birds,"  says  Lyell,  "  which  feed  indiscrimi- 
nately on  insects  and  plants,  are  perhaps  more  instrumental 
than  any  other  of  the  terrestrial  tribes  in  preserving  a  con- 
stant equilibrium  between  the  relative  numbers  of  different 
classes  of  animals  and  vegetables.  If  insects  become  very 
numerous  and  devour  the  plants,  these  birds  will  immediately 
derive  a  large  portion  of  their  subsistence  from  insects,  just  as 


314 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


the  Arabians,  Syrians,  and  Hottentots  feed  on  locusts  when 
the  locusts  devour  their  crops." 

On  the  other  hand,  are  plants  of  any  species  likely  to  mul- 
tiply to  the  exclusion  of  others  ?  Those  plants  have  allotted 
to  them  an  appropriate  insect  to  curb  their  luxuriance.  Thus, 
there  are  no  less  than  fifty  species  of  insects  which,  according 
to  Linnaeus,  prey  upon  the  nettle, — a  plant  so  prolific  that  it 
would  otherwise  overrun  our  fields.  Grass  is  kept  down  by 
the  Phalaena  graminis,  "  but  for  whose  agency,"  says  Wilcke, 
"it  would  destroy  a  great  number  of  species  of  vegetables,  of 
which  the  equilibrium  is  thus  kept  up.  Lest,  however,  the 
insects  assigned  to  a  plant  be  too  destructive,  they  are  in  their 
turn  preyed  upon  by  other  insects.  Thus  the  Iclincnmon  stro- 
bilinos  lays  its  eggs  in  the  caterpillar,  which  preys  upon  the 
fir  cone,  inserting  its  long  tail  in  the  opening  of  the  cone  till 
it  touches  the  included  insect,  for  its  body  is  too  large  to 
enter." 

We  ask  special  attention  to  these  facts,  because  they  exhibit 
adaptations  between  substances  naturally  independent  and 
separate.  When  the  adjustment  is  between  parts  of  the  same 
organized  structure,  it  may  be  alleged  that  there  is  a  neces- 
sary connection,  and  that  one  rises  spontaneously  out  of  the 
other.  Hardly  any  one,  however,  will  venture  to  allege  this 
of  beings  so  entirely  independent  as  different  orders  of  plants, 
much  less  of  cases  in  which  the  adjustment  is  between  an 
order  of  plants  as  chief  and  an  order  of  animals  as  subsidiary. 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE  LIFE-POWER  WITNESSING  TO  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE. 

WE  come  now  to  the  promotion  of  enjoyment,  as  well  as 
to  the  maintenance  of  Life,  —  these  being  joint  ends 
which  the  Creator  seems  to  propose  to  Himself  in  the  consti- 
tution and  economy  of  aiiimals.  From  animals,  therefore,  we 
shall  derive  our  examples,  and  we  shall  direct  them  to  the 
illustration  of  two  facts, — i.  That  as  plants  are  dependent  on 
animals  for  protection,  fecundation,  etc.,  so  animals  are  de- 
pendent on  plants  for  nutriment  and  enjoyment.  2.  That  one 
class  of  animals  is,  in  like  manner  and  for  the  same  objects, 
dependent  on  another  or  other  classes  of  animals. 

I.  The  general  dependence  of  animals  on  vegetables  for 
subsistence  has  been  noticed  already.  Since  no  known  ani- 
mal can  subsist  directly  on  inorganic  matters,  it  is  plain  there 
must  be  purveyors  for  these  substances.  Plants  are  the  men- 
strua in  which  these  inorganic  substances  are  reduced  and 
transformed  and  made  meet  for  animal  consumption.  But 
what  shall  guide  animals  in  selecting  from  the  vast  range  of 
plants  ?  Some  feed  on  several  different  kinds,  others  confine 
themselves  to  a  single  species,  and  in  both  cases  we  find  that 
there  is  a  wonderful  conformity  between  the  organization  of 
the  animal,  its  instincts,  and  its  appropriate  food.  In  its  wild 
state  it  selects  with  intuitive  accuracy  that  which  is  salubrious 
and  shuns  that  which  is  poisonous.  What  one  seizes  with 
avidity  as  food,  another  as  carefully  shuns ;  for  that  which  to 
one  is  life  and  health  is  to  another  disease  and  death.  Thus, 
the  goat  shuns  the  baneberry  (aconite),  but  eats  water-hem- 

(315) 


3i6 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


lock  with  impunity;  while  the  horse  can  feed  with  safety  on  the 
former  but  is  poisoned  by  the  latter.*  And  it  is  most  worthy 
of  remark  that  wherever  the  Creator  has  assigned  a  habitation 
to  a  particular  class  of  animals,  there  will  be  found  growing 
the  plants  on  which  they  can  best  subsist  and  thrive.  For 
example,  the  ruminating  animals  prevail  generally  over  the 
globe,  except  in  New  Holland ;  and  the  grasses,  their  appro- 
priate food,  grow  wherever  they  prevail,  but  are  wanting  in 
that  island.  The  quadrumana  (monkeys,  etc.)  are  confined  to 
the  tropical  regions  of  Africa  and  America,  and  it  is  in  the 
same  districts  that  we  find  the  palm-tree,  so  useful  to  that 
tribe ;  but,  as  if  to  demonstrate  that  the  connection  is  not 
necessitated,  there  is  one  spot  (New  Holland)  where  we  find 
palms  but  no  monkeys. 

Consider,  also,  the  adaptation  of  the  animal  structure  to  the 
manner  in  which  the  food  is  to  be  obtained.  Is  the  goat  to 
browse  on  the  edge  of  precipices,  he  has  a  hoof  and  legs  that 
enable  him  to  climb  and  step  with  perfect  firmness  and  pre- 
cision. Is  the  reindeer  to  get  its  subsistence  from  the  lichens 
and  mosses  that  lie  deep  beneath  the  snow,  he  is  provided 
with  a  branch  to  his  antlers  well  fitted  to  remove  that  cover- 
ing; and,  what  is  wonderful,  the  female  deer  is  provided  with 
this  appendage  only  in  polar  regions.  Is  the  camel,  "  that 
ship  of  the  desert,"  as  he  is  called  with  such  beautiful  signifi- 
cance in  Eastern  countries,  is  he  to  make  long  marches,  where 
there  is  nothing  but  a  waste  of  sand,  he  has  a  broad  hoof  like 
a  snow-shoe,  covered  with  an  elastic  cushion,  and  also  an 
articulated  disposition  of  bones  in  the  leg  precisely  fitted  for 
his  work ;  he  has  nostrils  which  are  little  more  than  long 
narrow  slits,  supplied  at  the  orifices  with  a  sphincter  muscle 
to  close  them  at  pleasure,  with  surrounding  rings  of  hair, — all 
enabling  him  to  exclude  the  sand  from  these  organs.  He  has 
attached  to  his  main  stomach  a  series  of  cells,  into  which  he 


*  Smellie's  Philosophy,  p.  147.     Boston,  1843, 


LIFE-POWER    WirXESSING  DIVLVE   BENEVOLEXCE.     317 

can  introduce  water  enough  to  serve  him  for  several  days, 
keeping  it  apart  from  the  other  contents  of  the  stomach.  In 
the  hump  or  humps  on  his  back,  he  has  a  reservoir  of  fat, 
which  is  stored  away  by  him  when  he  is  in  fertile  pastures, 
and  on  which  he  draws,  after  the  manner  of  the  bear,  when 
he  is  oppressed  with  hunger.  Can  we  meditate  on  instances 
of  adaptation  like  this,  where  the  adjustment  is  between  ob- 
jects so  disconnected  and  dissimilar, — between  precipices  and 
the  legs  and  feet  of  an  animal, — between  the  drifting  sands  of 
the  desert  and  the  foot  or  stomach  of  a  camel,  and  yet  not 
feel  that  wondrous  wisdom  must  have  contrived,  and  a  power 
not  less  wondrous  must  have  arranged,  them  ?  In  the  case  of 
the  camel,  let  it  be  observed,  that  when  one  of  the  same  genus 
(camelidse),  as,  for  example,  the  Llama  of  Peru,  is  to  live 
amidst  rocks  and  mountain-passes,  his  hoof,  instead  of  being 
broad,  is  made  narrow,  and  curved  at  the  outer  rim,  somewhat 
like  claws.  The  purpose  here  is  too  apparent  to  be  disputed. 
Observe  further,  too,  that  the  common  camel  and  dromedary 
are  never  found  on  islands  or  continents  where  there  are  no 
extended  plains. 

But  these  prospective  contrivances  reach  beyond  the  sub- 
sistence of  the  animal  itself  They  provide  for  the  progeny 
which  are  to  appear  after  the  parent  is  no  longer  living.  Take 
the  butterfly,  for  instance.  This  insect  is  born  an  orphan,  and 
dies  childless.  It  never  saw  those  who  gave  it  birth  ;  it  can 
never  see  those  who  are  to  spring  from  its  own  body.  Its  last 
act  in  life  is  to  deposit  its  eggs.  And  where  does  it  go  for 
the  purpose  ?  Not  to  the  plants  from  which  it  has  been  ac- 
customed to  extract  the  juices  that  are  its  own  food.  No  ;  it 
goes  to  that  one  plant  which  alone  has  leaves  fitted  to  subsist 
its  larvae,  when,  at  the  opening  of  the  next  spring,  they  shall 
burst  their  shells.  It  goes,  too,  to  that  part  of  the  plant  which 
will  be  likely  to  prove  faithful  to  the  trust, — not  to  a  new  and 
tender  shoot,  which  may  be  nipped  by  the  frost  or  broken  by 
the  wind,  but  to  one  of  the  oldest  and  strongest  of  the  branches. 


3i8 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


It  selects  that  shrub,  too,  whose  leaves  will  be  sure  to  open 
just  before  its  eggs  are  hatched.  As  there  are  different  kinds 
of  butterflies,  whose  larvae  are  produced  at  different  intervals, 
so  there  is,  in  each  case,  an  appropriate  plant.  The  larvJE 
are  neither  born  before  the  leaves  spring  forth,  nor  so  long 
after  as  to  find  them  hard  and  tough.  And  what  is  true  of 
butterflies  is  true,  also,  of  other  insects.  "  Every  plant  has  its 
guest  to  lodge  and  nourish."  "  Nature  has  reserved  a  species 
of  plants  for  each  species  of  insect." 

In  the  example  just  given,  the  plant  is  passive,  and  the  in- 
sect performs  the  principal  part  of  the  labor.  It  is  not  always 
so.  Look  at  the  bark-puncturing  insects.  With  their  boring- 
instruments  they  perforate  a  place  of  deposit  for  their  eggs, 
and  forthwith  a  change  takes  place  in  the  vegetative  process. 
The  wood  enlarges  around  the  q^^  ;  a  cell  is  thus  prepared 
for  the  insect;  and  this  work,  which  is  often  completed  within 
two  or  three  days,  is  always  the  same  for  the  same  species. 
No  other  instrument  than  that  which  this  insect  can  apply  will 
lead  to  any  such  result.  Does  it  not  show  that  in  the  consti- 
tution of  the  plant  itself  provision  has  been  made  for  the  se- 
curing and  perpetuating  of  these  insects  ? 

Before  closing  this  notice  of  the  reciprocal  adaptations  be- 
tween plants  and  animals  in  respect  to  the  subsistence  and 
reproduction  of  the  latter,  we  ask  attention  to  the  benevolence 
which  they  indicate.  Life  might  be  maintained  among  ani- 
mals as  among  vegetables, — without  sensation,  and,  of  course, 
without  pleasure.  But  wherever  the  Creator  gives  suscepti- 
bilities to  enjoyment,  He  gives,  also,  means  for  their  exercise 
and  gratification.  Thus,  eating  is  attended  with  pleasure  over 
and  above  that  which  would  suffice  to  keep  the  animal  from 
starving.  Pleasure  is  attached  to  all  those  acts  which  carry  it 
forth  in  perpetual  search  of  food.  Motion,  sunshine,  sweet 
odors,  melodious  sounds,  brilliant  colors,  all  seem  to  have 
their  charms  for  the  orders  of  inferior  being.  "Tlie  properties 
peculiar  to  each  plant  are  but  adaptations  to  creatures  that  can 


LIF^-POWER    WITNESSING   DIVINE   BENEVOLENCE.     31Q 

enjoy  them.  The  scent,  the  form,  the  color  of  every  flower 
and  every  leaf,  and  probably,  also,  of  the  very  particles  of 
earth  that  may  be  scattered  by  the  wind,  and  even  the  various 
sands  washed  by.  the  boundless  sea,  are  all  in  keeping  with 
the  senses  and  the  appetites  and  the  habits  of  different  living 
beings.  From  the  mammoth  to  the  mite,  from  the  iguanodon 
to  the  minutest  animalcule,  the  hand  of  the  Almighty  has 
equally  provided  for  every  want.  The  order  which  has  been 
most  productive  of  life  has  been  that  which  has  been  most 
productive  of  the  means  of  maintaining  life  delightfully;  for, 
though  a  malediction  has  been  visibly  written  on  the  soil  of 
the  earth,  yet  even  now  the  goodness  which  at  first  overflowed 
from  the  Maker  of  worlds  as  He  contemplated  his  works,  still 
appears  so  exuberant  that  our  ideas  of  Omnipotence  must  be 
enlarged  and  exalted  by  Himself  before  we  can  believe  in 
the  possibility  of  benevolence  greater  than  is  here  demon- 
strated."* 

2.  As  some  animals  are  dependent  on  plants  for  their  enjoy- 
ment and  subsistence,  so  in  others  there  is  a  mutual  depend- 
ence and  adaptation  between  different  classes  of  animals  or 
between  different  individuals  of  the  same  class.  Animalcules 
afford  food  to  superior  animals.  The  common  scallops,  as 
well  as  other  mollusks,  feed  on  infusoria,  and  their  stomachs 
often  contain  thousands  of  shells  which,  being  siliceous,  have 
resisted  the  process  of  digestion. f  From  a  paper  recently 
read  by  Dr.  Knox  before  the  British  Association  for  the 
Advancement  of  Science,  it  appeared  that  the  Vendace,  a 
fish  well  known  in  some  of  the  Lakes  of  Scotland,  derives 
its  subsistence  entirely  from  one  species  of  infusoria,  and 
that  the  same  species,  probably,  constitute  the  food  of  the 
Herring.  As  we  ascend  to  the  higher  orders,  we  find  that 
the  same  principle  is  carried  out  among  insects,  reptiles,  birds, 
mammalia. 


*  Moore's  Use  of  the  Body  in  Relation  to  the  Mind,  p.  149.     London,  1846. 
f  Mantell  on  Animalcules,  p.  103. 


-20  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

In  most  cases  the  inferior  animal  contributes  to  the  nour- 
ishment of  the  superior  by  yielding  up  its  life  ;  in  others,  how- 
ever, it  employs  its  living  powers  in  contributing  to  his  enjoy- 
ment and  support.  Thus  the  aphides  suck  sweet  juices  from 
plants  and  disgorge  them  into  the  mouths  of  ants,  whence 
they  were  termed  by  Linnaius  the  viildi-kinc  of  ants.  Ants, 
also,  have  numbers  of  their  own  species  that  they  seem  to 
have  reduced  to  slavery,  and  that  are  termed  by  Huber  their 
negroes,  because  they  are  constantly  busied  in  laborious  and 
servile  offices  for  the  benefit  of  their  masters.  So  with  all 
the  animals  (the  beaver,  bee,  etc.)  that  form  what  are  called 
proper  societies.  There  is  mutual  co-operation,  which  has  a 
direct  and  most  striking  tendency  to  promote  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  the  community.  Even  in  the  pairing  of  birds 
we  have  an  example  of  mutual  co-operation,  since  in  general 
the  males  and  females  assist  each  other  in  building  nests  and 
feeding  their  young. 

"We  here  perceive  design,  because  we  trace  adaptation.  But 
we  at  the  same  time  trace  Benevolent  design,  because  we  per- 
ceive gratuitous  and  supererogatory  enjoyment  bestowed.  See 
the  care  with  which  animals  of  all  kinds  are  attended  from 
their  birth.  The  mother's  instinct  is  not  more  certainly  the 
means  of  securing  and  providing  for  her  young  than  her 
gratification  in  the  act  of  maternal  care  is  great  and  is  also 
needless  for  making  her  perform  that  duty.  The  grove  is  not 
made  vocal  during  pairing  and  incubation,  in  order  to  secure 
the  laying  or  the  hatching  of  eggs  ;  for  if  it  were  as  still  as  the 
grave,  or  were  filled  with  the  most  discordant  croaking,  the 
process  would  be  as  well  performed."  "  But  thus  it  is,  that 
Nature  is  gratuitously  kind ;  she  not  only  prefers  inducement 
to  threat  or  compulsion,  but  she  adds  more  gratification  than 
is  necessary  to  make  the  creature  obey  her  calls."* 

*  Lord  Brougham's  Illustrations  of  Paley,  etc.,  vol.  ii.  p.  66. 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING   DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE. 


321 


THE  SYSTEM  OF  PREY — DOES   IT  COMPROMISE  THE  BENEVOLENCE 

OF  GOD? 

But  where  is  the  Benevolence,  it  may  be  said,  in  making 
one  animal  extract  its  sustenance  from  the  sufferings  and  death 
of  another  ?  Look  at  this  system  of  warfare  and  remorseless 
prey  which  pervades  the  animal  tribes.  Can  we  regard  this 
as  any  emanation  of  Benevolence  ?  We  reply,  that  he  who 
adjudges  it  to  be  irreconcilable  with  the  goodness  of  the 
Creator,  thereby  binds  himself  to  take  no  share  in  it;  he  can- 
not innocently  be  a  party  to  that  which  his  moral  nature  con- 
demns. It  becomes  him,  then,  to  reject  all  animal  food,  to 
use  no  article  of  raiment  which  in  its  texture  or  color  has  been 
derived  from  dead  animals,  and  to  banish  alike  from  his  par- 
lor, his  sleeping-rooms,  and  medicine-chest  whatever  can  be 
traced  to  the  same  source.  If  he  plead  the  grant  made  to 
Noah  of  the  flesh  of  animals  to  be  food  for  men,  we  answer 
that  tJiat  grant  in  Ids  favor  is  scarcely  more  explicit  than  the 
one  which  the  Creator  made  to  the  Lion,  the  Tiger,  the  Pan- 
ther, when  He  organized  them  with  none  but  incisor  teeth,  a 
simple  stomach,  and  an  irrepressible  thirst  for  prey.  If  he 
alleges  the  fact  revealed  by  the  microscope,  that  even  our 
vegetable  food  is  covered  by  animals  of  exceeding  minute- 
ness, which  are  nevertheless  organized,  and  that  abstinence 
from  all  flesh  being  thus  rendered  impossible,  he  is  an  invol- 
untary though  protesting  party  to  the  system  of  prey  and 
death.     We  answer, — 

First.  That  we  can  know  but  in  part,  and  that  though  our 
present  knowledge  and  power  of  comprehension  may  be 
unequal  to  the  office  of  vindicating  this  system,  it  may,  none 
the  less,  be  a  wise  and  good  system. 

Secojidly.  That  in  human  affairs  suffering  always  stands 
justified  when  it  is  a  necessary  means  to  the  attainment  of  a 
greater  good,  {E.g.  Surgical  operations,  Labor  in  quest  of 
gain,  etc.) 

21 


322 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


Thirdly.  That  he  who  inflicts  or  permits  the  suffering  gives 
incontestable  evidence  of  his  kindness,  if  he  seem  anxious  to 
secure  the  greatest  return  of  enjoyment  at  the  least  expense 
of  pain. 

If  the  last  two  of  these  principles  be  applied  to  the  system 
of  prey  and  death  among  inferior  animals,  we  shall  not  be 
left  without  some  means  of  reconciling  it  with  the  goodness 
of  the  Creator.  We  shall  find  that  the  aggregate  amount  of 
enjoyment  has  probably  been  thereby  augmented,  inasmuch 
as  the  whole  number  of  sentient  animals,  as  compared  with 
the  whole  number  of  plants  on  the  globe,  has  been  greatly 
increased.  Were  all  carnivorous  animals  to  become  herbiv- 
orous, the  annual  plant-harvest  of  the  globe  would  be  totally 
inadequate  to  the  support  even  of  terrestrial  animals,  while 
fish  must  cease  to  exist.  By  the  present  arrangement,  the 
privileges  of  sentient  and  animal  existence  are  extended  to  a 
large  portion  of  food,  which  must  otherwise  have  been  with- 
out those  privileges.  It  rejoices  in  sensation  and  motion  till 
it  is  wanted  to  maintain  the  same  functions  in  other  and 
higher  organisms,  and  then,  though  the  individual  die  the  race 
still  lives.  The  stream  is  unbroken ;  and  when  we  compare 
the  enjoyment  of  a  succession  of  individuals  coming  into  life, 
full  of  the  animation  of  opening  existence,  delighting  in  the 
offices  that  pertain  to  the  propagation  of  their  kind,  we  may 
well  doubt  whether,  with  all  the  reduction  which  must  be 
placed  to  the  account  of  suffering  and  death,  they  have  not  a 
greater  aggregate  of  pleasure  than  could  have  been  the  lot  of  a 
solitary  individual,  even  though  his  life  had  been  coextensive 
with  that  of  all  the  race. 

In  respect  to  the  sufferings  incident  to  the  life  and  death 
of  animals,  we  may  remark  that,  in  our  own  experience,  pleas- 
ures are  heightened  by  their  contrast  with  pain,  and  hence 
that  all  susceptibility  to  suffering  is  not  necessarily  an  evil. 
We  remark  further  that  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  beings 
endowed,  like  animals,  with  the  power  of  voluntary  locomotion, 


I 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE. 


323 


and  destined  to  procure  their  own  subsistence,  and  with  it 
their  own  enjoyment,  could  have  been  created  with  a  capacity 
for  pleasure  only,  independent  of  all  susceptibility  to  pain. 
The  one  seems  to  be  the  necessary  alternative  of  the  other. 

Again,  observe  that  the  suffering  seems  to  have  been  care- 
fully economized, — the  animal  being  liable  to  so  much  as  shall 
serve  to  guard  him  against  danger  and  to  no  more.  For  ex- 
ample, the  superficial  nerves — those  spread  over  the  exterior 
parts  of  bodies  and  organs — are  much  more  sensitive  than 
those  lying  far  within.  A  nerve  of  sense,  again,  is  sensitive 
only  to  impressions  from  one  class  of  objects,  as  the  eye  to 
light,  the  ear  to  sound.  Bones  can  be  cut  or  sawed  without 
giving  pain  ;  it  is  only  when  they  are  in  danger  of  being  frac- 
tured— the  great  danger  to  which  bones  are  exposed  in  the 
living  animal — that  pain  gives  us  warning.  In  like  manner 
ligaments  and  tendons  can  be  cut,  pierced,  burned,  with- 
out suffering;  it  is  only  when  they  are  strained  that  the 
nerves  give  us  monitory  intimation.  Could  that  Being  have 
been  careless  of  the  suffering  of  his  creatures  who  organized 
the  eye, — that  instrument  which  in  every  animal  seems  so 
nicely  adapted  to  its  specific  wants, — which  is  provided  with 
so  much  apparatus  for  cleansing,  moistening,  and  defence ; 
and  the  nerve  of  which  has  been  supplied  with  precisely  that 
measure  of  sensibility  which  enables  it  to  fulfill  its  appointed 
functions  with  the  least  pain?  Add  but  a  grain  to  the  sensi- 
tiveness of  the  optic  nerve,  derange  but  one  of  the  number- 
less ducts  or  membranes  or  muscles  or  blood-vessels  that  eo 
to  make  up  the  organ,  and  vision,  ordinarily  a  source  only 
of  pleasure,  becomes  the  occasion  of  anguish. 

But  these  are  not  the  only  provisions  which  the  Creator  has 
made  for  reducing  and  economizing  the  pain  occasioned  to 
animals  by  death.  In  the  first  place,  they  are  not  burdened 
by  that  oppressive  consciousness  of  guilt  which  often  serves 
to  shroud  man's  future  in  gloom,  and  to  render  departure  from 
life  a  fearful  change.     In  the  second  place,  they  have  none  but 


7  1^  THE    THREE    ir/rXESSES. 


0 


the  most  limited  capacity  (if  an}')  for  foreseeing  this  catastro- 
phe, and  are  not,  therefore,  like  man,  kept  in  bondage  all  their 
life  long  by  the  fear  of  coming  dissolution.  In  the  ////n/ place, 
they  are  not  often  bound  to  offspring,  parents,  or  companions 
by  permanent  tics,  the  rupturing  of  which  must  be  alike  to 
those  who  depart  and  those  that  survive  the  occasion  of  bit- 
terness. In  the  fourth  place,  they  have  none  of  the  restless, 
aspiring  sentiments  that  make  life,  to  man,  one  long  and  anx- 
ious fever-fit,  and  that  precipitate  him  on  death  at  last  with  a 
violent  recoil.  And  in  the  last  place,  it  is  well  worthy  oi  re- 
mark, that  where  one  animal  falls  a  prey  to  another,  the  suffer- 
ings seem  to  be  carefully  abridged: — i.  The  victim  is  always 
killed  before  being  devoured.  2.  It  is  attacked,  generally,  at 
tlie  most  vulnerable  point,  where  death  can  be  inflicted  in  the 
shortest  space  of  time  and  with  the  least  pain.  The  carotid 
arteries,  and  that  point  on  the  spinal  column,  near  the  base  of 
the  skull,  where  a  single  blow  ends  life,  are  the  most  fre- 
quently-chosen places  of  attack ;  and  is  it  not  also  most  re- 
markable, that  this  point,  known  to  man  only  by  experiment 
and  investigation,  is  intuitively  known  by  animals  ? 

Consider,  on  the  other  hand,  the  provisions  which  have 
been  made  for  the  enjoyment  of  animals  that  fall  at  last  a  prey 
to  others.  The  herbaceous  animals,  and  the  inferior  carnivora, 
are  generally  distinguished  for  their  apparent  comfort.  A  large 
portion  of  their  allotted  term  of  life  is  passed  in  freedom  from 
disease,  and  in  the  contented  enjoyment  of  all  their  instincts. 
Their  lives  may  be  compared  to  those  of  healthy,  happy  chil- 
dren-lives, of  prevailing  sunshine,  with  now  and  then  a  pass- 
ing cloud.  There  seems  little  reason  to  doubt  that  they  can 
derive  exquisite  sensual  pleasure  from  the  colors,  odors,  sounds, 
and  movements  with  which  a  bountiful  Creator  has  encom- 
passed them.  Their  susceptibility  to  music  may  be  taken 
as  an  example.     "  Sir  W.  Jones*  testifies  to  the  credibility  of 


*  Moore's  Uses  of  Body  in  Relation  to  Mind,  p.  180. 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING  DIVINE   BENEVOLENCE. 


325 


the  story,  that  while  a  lutenist  was  playing  before  a  large 
company  in  a  grove  near  Schiraz,  the  nightingales  vied  with 
the  musician  until  they  dropped  on  the  ground  in  a  kind  of 
ecstasy,  from  which  they  were  roused  by  a  change  in  the 
music.  An  officer,  confined  in  the  Bastile,  found  himself  sur- 
rounded by  hundreds  of  musical  amateurs,  in  the  form  of  mice 
and  spiders,  whenever  he  played  on  his  lute.  In  the  East 
persons  are  employed  to  rid  houses  of  venomous  snakes  by 
causing  them  to  come  out  of  their  holes  at  the  sound  of  a 
lute.  The  Negroes  catch  lizards  by  whistling  a  tune  to  them." 
With  this  high  susceptibility  to  pleasure  may  be  combined 
comparative  insensibility  to  pain.  A  medical  and  physiologi- 
cal writer  remarks,  "All  creatures  purely  instinctive,  such  as 
insects,  appear  to  me  to  be  incapable  of  positive  pain,  but 
abundantly  endowed  with  the  capacity  of  pleasure.  Their 
every  action  results  from  direct  impression,  so  as  always  to 
be  accompanied  by  a  feeling  of  enjoyment,  or  a  sense  of  doing 
what  is  desired, — the  desire,  the  action,  and  the  exciting  cause 
of  the  action  being  connected  without  interval  and  without 
comparison.  Thus,  an  insect,  although  cut  in  two,  will  seize 
its  food  with  avidity."*  That  such  an  organization  is  not  im- 
possible, may  be  made  apparent  from  the  following  fact :  A 
person  wishing  to  have  a  tooth  extracted,  takes  a  dose  of  sul- 
phuric ether.  The  effect  is  a  general  exaltation  of  his  nervous 
system,  so  that  he  feels  an  extraordinary  sense  of  physical 
and  mental  vigor,  and  an  almost  irrepressible  desire  to  exert 
his  powers.  At  the  same  time,  his  sensibility  to  pain  is  so 
much  diminished  that,  though  he  sees  the  dentist  open  his 
mouth,  apply  the  instrument,  and  remove  the  tooth,  he  is  en- 
tirely unconscious  of  pain,  and  the  tooth  is  extracted  without 
any  sense  of  suffering.  Suppose  the  temporary  state  thus 
induced  in  man  by  artificial  means  were  the  permanent  state 
of  insect  life.    Entire  insensibility  to  suffering  would  probably 


*  Moore's  Uses,  etc.,  p.  62. 


326  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

not  ensue,  but  it  is  evident  that  the  amount  endured  would  be 
trifling,  while  the  percipient  powers  and  the  sense  of  enjoy- 
ment might  remain  unimpaired. 

Thus  far,  in  considering  tlie  alleviations  and  compensations 
which  distinguish  the  system  of  prey  among  inferior  animals, 
w  c  have  omitted  all  reference  to  the  advantages  which  accrue 
to  man  from  the  power  he  exercises  over  their  lives.  These 
belong  to  the  following  head.  Thus  far  we  have  confined 
our  attention  to  plants  and  to  animals  inferior  to  man,  and  we 
have  considered  their  adaptations  only  in  respect  to  inorganic 
nature,  and  to  such  relations  as  subsist  between  different  de- 
partments of  Organic  Life.  We  have  seen  that  both  plants 
and  animals  are  adapted,  with  multifarious  and  unfailing  wis- 
dom, to  the  constitution  of  the  air,  light,  water,  earth,  etc. 
We  have  seen,  also,  that  there  are  striking  natural  adjustments 
between  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdom,  taken  as  a  whole • 
between  different  classes  of  vegetables,  each  to  the  other;  be- 
tween corresponding  classes  of  vegetables  and  animals,  and 
between  different  classes  of  animals.  In  all  these  adaptations 
we  have  considered  man  merely  as  a  spectator.  We  have 
examined  the  provisions  made,  both  among  vegetables  and 
among  animals,  for  the  maintenance  of  life,  and  wc  have  beheld 
in  them  most  striking  indications  of  the  manifold  ivisdom 
of  God.  We  have  considered,  also,  the  arrangements  made 
among  the  inferior  orders  of  sentient  existence  for  the  pro- 
motion of  enjoyment ;  and  in  these  provisions  we  have  seen 
impressive  proof  of  the  vigilant  kindness  and  benignity  of 
Him  whose  mercy  is  over  all  his  works.  We  have  endeav- 
ored to  sketch  some  of  the  impressions  and  convictions  which 
must  have  forced  themselves  on  man,  if,  instead  of  being  a 
tenant  in  common  with  countless  inferior  beings  of  this  broad 
earth,  he  were  only  a  transient  visitor ;  and  it  would  seem 
that  he  could  not  well  have  resisted  the  conclusion  that  it  was 
a  world  created  and  governed  by  unbounded  Wisdom,  Power, 
and  Benevolence.  These  conclusions,  however,  must  be  greatly 


LIFE-POWER    WITNESSING   DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE.     327 

strengthened  if  we  consider  man  as  occupying  his  appointed 
place,  and  receiving,  as  well  through  the  agency  of  inferior 
creatures  as  through  the  economy  of  his  own  nature,  contri- 
butions to  his  happiness.  In  these  contributions  the  Almighty 
gives  us  a  view  of  his  Holiness,  as  well  as  of  his  Goodness, 
Wisdom,  and  Poiver. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

THE  LIFE -POWER  A    WITNESS    FOR    ALL    DIVINE 

PERFECTION. 

MAN'S  tvdfare  promoted  through  the  agency  of  inferior 
creatures  is,  then,  the  topic  for  discussion  under  the 
class  of  adaptations  now  to  be  considered. 

Inferior  creatures  (plants  and  animals)  have  been  so  consti- 
tuted as  to  be  bountiful  contributors  to  {a)  Man's  Physical 
Ejijoyment ;  {b)  to  his  Mental  Development ;  {c)  to  his  Moral  Dis- 
cipline;  (d)  to  his  Social  and  Political  Welfare. 

(a)  To  his  Physical  Enjoyment.  What  an  immense  propor- 
tion of  our  material  enjoyments  are  derived  from  the  organic 
world, — from  plants  and  animals!  All  our  food,  if  we  except 
water,  all  our  raiment,  the  larger  part  of  our  furniture  and 
implements,  and  all  that  part  of  our  edifices  which  comes  into 
nearest  contact  with  us,  is  derived  from  this  source.  Shut  out 
from  it,  man  would  be  unable  to  exist;  permitted  to  use  it,  he 
need  fix  no  bounds  to  his  physical  resources  and  enjoyments. 
There  seems  to  be  hardly  a  plant  or  animal  on  the  globe 
which  may  not  be  made  to  subserve  man's  convenience  or 
safety.  Plants  which  are  poisonous  to  him  when  in  health 
have  remedial  power  over  his  diseases.  Substances  the  most 
unnoticed,  and  apparently  the  most  insignificant,  acquire,  with 
the  progress  of  knowledge,  an  unexpected,  and  often  an  almost 
unlimited,  value.  From  the  seaweed  that  floats  to  the  beach, 
or  the  hyssop  that  springs  out  of  the  wall,  up  to  the  proudest 
monarch  of  the  forest,  there  are  few  which,  besides  subsisting 
their  appropriate  insect  or  bird,  do  not  also  (or  may  not)  min- 
ister to  the  necessities  or  comforts  of  man.  The  sea-weed 
yields  kelp,  etc.;  the  colchicum  affords  two  or  three  distinct 
(328) 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE  PERFECTION.     329 

medicines ;  the  acorn,  roasted,  has  been  converted  into  an 
agreeable  substitute  for  coffee ;  and  bread,  not  unpalatable,  and 
far  from  innutritious,  has  been  made  out  of  sawdust. 

If  we  turn  to  the  animal  world  it  is  the  same.  Insects  are 
immense  contributors  to  man's  safety  and  comfort,  not  only 
by  destroying  the  plants  that  would  otherwise  overrun  his 
fields,  or  by  feeding  on  the  carrion  that  might  taint  his  air, 
but  also  by  the  uses  to  which  they  can  be  applied  after  death. 
More  than  a  million  of  dollars  is  said  to  be  paid  out  annually 
by  England  for  the  cochineal, —  an  insect  used  in  dyeing. 
More  than  two  millions  of  human  beings  are  supposed  to  de- 
rive their  employment  and  subsistence  from  the  product  of 
the  silk-worm.  The  Spanish-fly,  or  Cantharides,  used  in  medi- 
cine ;  gallnuts,  which  are  occasioned  by  the  sting  of  insects, 
and  are  used  in  dyeing  and  making  ink ;  the  honey  and  wax 
obtained  from  bees  are  other  examples  of  the  manner  in  which 
animals,  even  after  their  term  of  life  is  ended,  can  be  applied 
to  man's  service. 

Not  only  is  it  likely  that  almost  every  organized  plant  and 
animal  can  be  made  directly  subservient  to  human  welfare, 
we  find  that  the  most  various  uses  can  be  found  for  the  same 
plant  or  animal.  Take,  for  example,  the  great  Mexican  Aloe 
or  Agave.  The  sap  fermented  forms  a  beverage  ;  "  the  fibres 
of  its  leaves  make  a  coarse  kind  of  thread ;  the  dried  flowering 
stems  are  an  almost  imperishable  thatch ;  an  extract  of  the 
leaves  is  made  into  balls  which  will  lather  water  like  soap ; 
the  fresh  leaves  themselves  cut  into  slices  are  occasionally 
given  to  cattle ;  and  finally,  the  centre  of  the  flowering,  split 
longitudinally,  is  by  no  means  a  bad  substitute  for  a  European 
razor-strap,  owing  to  minute  particles  of  silica  forming  one 
of  its  constituents." 

Take  even  one  part  of  such  a  being,  a  homogeneous  sub- 
stance like  gum-elastic,  or  caoutchouc.  It  is  the  inspissated 
juice  of  several  varieties  of  tree  growing  in  South  America. 
Forty  years  since  it  was  applied  to  but  one  purpose,  that  of 


330 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


effacing  pencil  or  crayon  marks  from  paper.  How  manifold 
the  applications  of  it  to  human  convenience  and  comfort  which 
have  been  discovered  during  that  brief  space  of  time!  It  is 
now  manufactured  into  shoes  and  boots,  into  cloth,  into  car- 
riage-tops, into  life-preservers,  into  gaiters,  suspenders,  and 
almost  every  article  of  wearing  apparel ;  into  travelling-bags, 
into  bands  for  transmitting  motion  in  machinery,  into  door- 
springs,  into  elastic-holders  for  paper,  etc.  In  making  it  im- 
pervious to  water,  and  elastic,  as  well  as  flexible,  the  Creator 
seems  to  have  rendered  it  capable  of  supplying  an  almost  in- 
finite number  of  human  wants. 

The  animal  world  is  full  of  examples  of  the  same  kind. 
Take  the  Reindeer  of  the  Arctic  regions,  or  the  Camel  of 
sandy  deserts,  already  referred  to.  How  manifold  are  the 
uses  to  which  they  can  be  applied  as  well  after  they  are  dead 
as  during  life!  Or  take  the  domestic  cow  as  an  example.  After 
supplying  us  while  alive  with  milk,  butter,  cheese,  manure^ 
and  serving  to  replenish  our  herds,  she  becomes  when  dead 
an  object  of  desire  to  a  dozen  different  tradesmen,  because  she 
can  contribute  to  supply  more  than  that  number  of  human 
wants.  The  butcher,  the  tallow-chandler,  the  soap-boiler, 
the  glue-manufacturer,  the  tanner,  the  trunk  and  harness- 
maker,  the  maker  of  shoes  and  boots,  of  combs  and  lanterns, 
of  neat's-foot  oil,  of  bone-dust  for  manure,  all  find  value  in  the 
carcass  of  the  fattened  ox  or  cow,  thus  showing  how  manifold 
are  the  different  substances  and  uses  which  can  be  extracted 
out  of  the  same  organized  being. 

And  man's  wants,  be  it  observed,  are  ever  varying  and  mul- 
tiplying. His  desires  are  not  like  those  of  inferior  animals, 
limited  in  number,  and  always  directed  to  the  same  objects  in 
the  same  form.  In  virtue  of  his  imagination  and  his  wide 
range  of  capacities,  he  is  studious  of  change  and  intent  on 
novelty.  No  sooner  has  one  object  been  attained  than  his 
restless  and  fertile  invention  conceives  of  some  other.  One 
desire  is  no  sooner  gratified  than  another  presses  upon  his 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE  PERFECTION. 


331 


insatiate  spirit ;  and  hence  it  is  that  he  needs  to  be  surrounded 
by  substances  which  admit  of  an  indefinite  number  of  trans- 
formations, and  which  are  adapted  in  every  state  to  satisfy 
some  want  or  yield  pleasure  to  some  one  of  his  many  sus- 
ceptibiHties.  In  providing  such  substances,  God  has  pro- 
claimed how  wondrous  are  his  Wisdom,  Poiver,  and  Goodness. 

Is  it  not  worthy  of  remark,  also,  how  large  a  proportion  of 
these  substances  become  useful  to  man  only  after  tJiey  have 
ceased  to  live  ?  Life  was  necessary  in  order  to  build  up  their 
structures,  to  give  them  their  peculiar  properties,  and  then,  its 
office  being  discharged,  it  disappears  before  the  all-subduing 
and  appropriating  power  of  man.  Our  food  is  made  up  of 
vegetables  and  animals  that  once  lived  but  live  no  longer. 
The  artificial  light  which  transforms  our  night  into  day,  the 
artificial  heat  which  diffuses  warmth  through  our  dwelling, 
substituting  the  climate  of  the  tropics  for  the  rigor  of  a  north- 
ern winter,  are  derived  from  that  which  once  had  life  but  is 
now  dead.  So  with  our  raiment  and  furniture.  The  cotton 
and  linen  with  which  we  invest  our  limbs  once  flourished  in 
the  field ;  the  silk  with  which  we  decorate  our  person  was 
once  the  winding-sheet  of  a  crawling  worm;  the  woolen  cloth 
which  defends  us  from  cold,  once  warmed  the  backs  of  ani- 
mals; the  table  on  which  we  write,  the  paper  on  which  we 
trace  these  lines,  the  chair  on  which  we  sit,  the  floor  on  which 
it  rests,  the  carpet  that  covers  that  floor,  all  point  to  death, 
as  the  mysterious  change  through  which  organic  substances 
must  generally  pass  before  they  become  directly  useful  in 
supplying  man's  Physical  wants. 

One  remark  more  will  close  this  branch  of  the  subject. 
Plants  and  animals,  considered  as  independent  of  man,  are 
absolutely  and  almost  invariably  useful  to  each  other.  The 
adaptations  are  fixed  and  all  but  constant.  Where  the  means 
exist,  and  are  left  undisturbed  by  man,  the  end  will  in  most, 
if  not  all,  instances  be  attained.  It  is  not  so  with  the  adapta- 
tions now  under  consideration.    Plants  and  animals  are  calcu- 


:;:.2  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

lated,  as  we  have  seen,  to  promote  in  a  wonderful  manner  the 
physical  enjoyments  of  our  race.  But  man  is  endowed  with  a 
high  but  perilous  prerogative.  In  virtue  of  the  moral  liberty, 
the  power  of  self-determination  which  distinguishes  him  from 
inferior  animals,  he  can  promote,  or  he  can  at  pleasure  ob- 
struct, the  purposes  of  the  Creator.  By  the  exercise  of  a  per- 
verse and  fatal  ingenuity,  he  can  transform  that  which  is  fitted 
to  be  a  rich  blessing  into  the  direst  of  curses.  Take  the  natural 
family  of  grasses  for  an  example.  It  includes  all  the  breadstuffs 
of  the  human  race,  from  wheat  down  to  oats,  barley,  rice,  and 
millet.  Applied  to  their  proper  use,  they  are  an  inestimable 
blessing,  constituting  emphatically  our  staff  of  life.  But  how 
is  it  when,  bent  on  sensual  excitement,  man  sends  these 
grains  to  the  Distillery  rather  than  to  the  Flour-mill  ?  From 
that  which,  properly  used,  imparts  only  strength  and  health, 
he  extracts  a  substance  which,  though  useful  in  Medicine  and 
the  Arts,  becomes  when  consumed  as  a  beverage  a  prolific  and 
fearful  source  of  disease,  sorrow,  crime,  and  death.  Thus 
does  God  hold  us  to  our  responsibility  as  free  and  intelligent 
Beings.  He  supplies  us  with  that  which  shall  cheer  or 
scourge  us,  according  as  we  use  it  well  or  ill,  and  in  the  re- 
tribution which  each  one  thus  works  out  for  himself  He  pro- 
claims that  the  Judge  of  all  the  Earth  will  do  right. 

We  come  now  to  consider  how  the  Creator  has  adapted 
Plants  and  Animals  to  the  promotion  of  the  Mental,  Moral, 
and  Social  welfare  of  man.     As  they  contribute  to  these  ends,. 
both  in  their  natural  state  and  through  the  transformations 
effected  by  art,  we  shall  discuss  each  of  these  separately. 

I.  In  their  Natural  State.  Every  human  heart  is  instinct- 
ively drawn  towards  that  which  has  life.  This  attraction 
seems  to  be  due  partly  to  .sympathy  and  partly  to  imagination. 
In  one  sense  we  are  ourselves  plants, — i.e.  we  have  involuntary 
vital  functions  analogous  to  those  of  plants,  and  which  are 
therefore  called  vegetative;  so  that  every  opening  flower, 
every  rising  stalk,  seems  to  reflect  back  upon  us  a  nature 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE  PERFECTION. 


333 


in  one  respect  like  our  own.  Again,  we  are  animals  as  well 
as  plants, — that  is,  we  have  organs  of  sensation  and  voluntary 
motion  like  animals ;  so  that  when  we  look  on  them  we  are 
drawn  by  a  twofold  cord  of  sympathy,  inasmuch  as  they  are 
seen  to  reflect  back  upon  us  a  nature  in  two  respects  like  our 
own.  Imagination  comes  in  aid  of  the  sympathies  thus  ex- 
cited ;  because  it  sees,  in  the  changes  to  which  all  living 
beings  are  subject,  and  in  the  mysterious  processes  through 
which  these  changes  are  produced,  more  than  enough  to 
awaken  curiosity  and  wonder.  In  the  case  of  children,  this 
instinctive  interest  in  animal  and  vegetable  life  appears  to  be 
greatly  increased  by  an  abounding  nervous  energy.  The 
mass  of  nervous  matter  bears  in  a  child  a  much  larger  pro- 
portion to  its  whole  bulk  than  it  does  in  an  adult.  In  conse- 
quence of  this,  the  vital  activities  of  a  child  are,  for  wise  and 
obvious  purposes,  restless  and  overflowing,  so  that  they  suffice 
not  only  to  supply  all  physical  requisitions  of  that  age,  but 
also  to  clothe,  with  an  imaginary  life,  every  object  with  which 
it  comes  in  contact.  The  disposition  of  children  to  personify 
that  on  which  they  look,  to  ascribe  life  to  inanimate  objects 
and  reason  to  animals,  is  familiar  to  every  one.  It  may  pos- 
sibly account  for  the  origin  oi fable, — a  medium  of  instruction 
in  which  animals  and  plants  appear  as  our  sage  teachers,  and 
which  has  always  prevailed  from  the  days  of  Jotham  to  our 
own.  Every  child  is  in  some  sense  an  yEsop  or  a  Fontaine,  in- 
asmuch as  every  child  is  inclined  to  establish  a  communion 
of  thought  and  feeling  between  himself  and  all  that  has  life. 

Here,  then,  are  so  many  different  provisions  of  the  all-wise 
Creator,  which  tend  to  make  plants  and  animals  subservient 
in  early  life  to  the  great  end  of  our  mental  and  moral  develop- 
ment. They  awaken  curiosity  and  keep  it  alive.  They  give 
scope  and  play  to  the  imagination.  They  enlarge  the  circle 
of  our  active  sympathies.  Every  plant  that  springs  up  and 
grows  and  declines, — eveiy  animal,  whether  in  a  wild  or  a 
domestic  state, — every  fluttering  insect  and  soaring  bird  and 


334 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


creeping  reptile  and  moving  quadruped,  makes  an  appeal  to 
the  opening  faculties  of  childhood.  In  those  animals  over 
which  a  child  can  exercise  power,  we  have  so  many  instru- 
ments also  of  moral  discipline.  He  soon  indicates  whether  he 
is  disposed  to  abuse  that  power.  Is  he  regardless  of  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  animals  with  which  he  sports — beware  lest, 
as  he  grows  up,  he  be  indifferent  to  the  feelings  of  friends  and 
associates,  or  reckless  of  the  rights  and  happiness  of  all  on 
whom  he  can  trample  with  impunity.  On  the  other  hand,  is 
he  morbidly  sensitive  to  the  claims  of  these  inferior  beings, 
and  disposed  to  transfer  to  them  the  sympathies  and  affections 
due  mainly  to  those  of  human  kind — beware  lest  his  sensibility 
become  his  enemy,  lest  he  lose  in  his  imaginative  com- 
munion with  nature  that  robust  strength  of  understanding, 
and  that  general  equilibrium  of  soul  which  alone  can  fit  him 
for  the  higher  duties  and  onjoyments  of  life. 

As  a  child  advances  in  years,  he  is  prone  to  withdraw  his 
mind  more  and  more  from  inferior  forms  of  life,  and  to 
concentrate  it  on  human  forms  and  passions ;  or  he  is  dis- 
posed to  lose  himself  still  more  exclusively  in  sentimental 
contemplations.  Either  of  these  tendencies  is  to  be  depre- 
cated ;  and  either  of  them  may  be  avoided  in  part,  at  least, 
through  the  systematic  and  proper  study  of  Natural  History. 
This  science  makes  us  acquainted  with  the  great  plan  on 
which  the  Creator  has  constituted  organic  nature.  It  deepens 
our  interest  in  living  beings  by  enlightening  it,  by  teaching 
us  how  admirably  they  are  framed,  how  wisely  adapted  to 
their  purposes,  how  full  of  problems  that  stimulate,  and  yet 
transcend  all  our  investigating  powers.  Wisely  conducted,  it 
is  a  study  that  may  contribute  alike  to  cssthctical,  to  intel- 
lectual, and  to  moral  development.  If  the  reading  of  text- 
books be  combined  with  the  observation  of  nature,  with  the 
careful  examination  of  plants  or  animals,  and  that  not  in  a 
pedantic,  but  in  a  liberal,  thoughtful,  and  comprehensive 
spirit,  the  result  must  be  favorable  alike  to  taste  and  to  ere- 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE  PERFECTION     335 

ative  genius.  All  great  Poets,  Painters,  and  Sculptors  have 
been  enthusiastic  observers  of  the  Natural  World,  and  especi- 
ally of  the  world  of  animated  beings;  for,  be  it  observed,  that 
inanimate  objects  have  little  artistic  or  poetical  interest  inde- 
pendent of  the  living  forms  with  which  they  are  associated. 
A  landscape  without  vegetation  or  animal  life,  even  the 
ocean  divested  of  its  restless  movements,  which  give  it  the 
appearance  of  a  thing  of  life,  and  deprived  of  the  myriads  of 
animated  and  rejoicing  inhabitants  with  which  our  minds 
always  people  it,  would  be  tame  and  prosaic.  He,  then, 
who  would  be  a  true  artist  must  love  all  that  has  life.  He 
must  have  caught  its  spirit;  and  since  his  pictures  have 
value  only  in  proportion  as  they  are  true,  he  must  be  inti- 
mate with  the  forms  as  well  as  the  spirit  of  animated  beings. 
As  with  the  Artist,  so  with  all  who  would  relish  his  works. 
He  who  would  raise  his  mind  to  the  height  of  the  great  Poet 
or  Painter  or  Sculptor,  who  would  appreciate  his  creative  or 
his  pictorial  skill,  must  have  become  familiar  with  his  origi- 
nals. Above  all,  must  he  do  this  who  would  enjoy  and  under- 
stand the  works  of  Him  who  is  the  Artist  of  all  Artists,  and 
who  has  traced  on  the  canvas  of  animated  nature  those  ma- 
jestic lines  and  those  celestial  tints  and  hues  which  human 
artists  strive  in  vain  to  imitate. 

But  there  is  a  culture  still  more  important  than  the  cesthctical. 
It  is  the  culture  of  the /r(^f//£-<s:/ understanding,  of  those  faculties 
which  fit  us  for  the  everyday  duties  and  sober  realities  of  life. 
Elementary  studies  have  their  chief  intellectual  value  in  their 
tendency  to  unfold,  discipline,  and  enlighten  such  faculties ; 
in  their  tendency  to  make  a  large,  thoughtful,  and  accurate 
mind,  one  that  shall  be  prompt  alike  to  acquire  knowledge, 
to  employ  it  wisely  in  reasoning,  and  to  apply  it  correctly  and 
efficiently  in  action.  But  where  can  a  study  be  found  better 
calculated  to  form  such  minds  than  the  study  of  Natural  His- 
tory? Properly  pursued,  it  cultivates  the  habit  of  carefully 
observing  and  of  correctly  describing  the  objects  with  which 


136 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


we  deal ;  it  thus  disciplines  and  improves  \.h.e  perceptive  faculty. 
It  promotes,  also,  the  habit  of  comparing  facts  mentally,  of 
arranging  them  into  classes  according  to  their  resemblances 
and  affinities,  and  of  thus  ascending,  step  by  step,  to  correct 
general  notions ;  a  habit  among  the  most  useful  that  we  can 
possess,  for  it  admits  of  application  in  every  branch  of  study 
and  in  every  department  of  business.  It  should  be  considered, 
also,  that  while  thus  disciplining  our  faculties,  it  is  filling  our 
minds  with  a  knowledge  of  things  instead  of  a  knowledge  of 
words, — that  it  is  kindling  a  generous  curiosity  which  is  not 
likely  to  sleep  hereafter, — that  it  opens  before  the  mind  an 
interminable  vista  along  which  it  can  travel,  with  ever-new 
delight,  throughout  the  longest  life,  and  that  it  thus  supplies 
us  with  intellectual  resources  as  exhaustless  as  they  are  de- 
liehtful  for  our  leisure,  for  our  solitude,  for  excursions  in 
quest  of  health,  or  for  our  years  of  declining  or  unoccupied 


age. 


As  intellectual  is  higher  than  czsthetical  culture,  so  is  moral 
culture  higher  than  either.  This  is  to  be  found  as  well  in  the 
formal  study  of  Natural  History  as  in  our  more  casual  and 
desultory  observations,  and  in  our  various  relations  to  plants 
and  animals.  It  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  any  study  or  any 
class  of  Natural  objects  can  have  the  necessary  effect  of  ex- 
alting and  purifying  our  moral  natures.  Part  of  man's  trial 
lies  in  the  power  he  possesses  of  transforming  that  which  God 
has  appointed  to  be  a  Teacher  of  Righteousness  into  a  minister 
of  Folly  and  of  Sin.  With  depraved  tastes  and  propensities, 
the  mind  will  contrive  to  extract  evil  out  of  sources  the  most 
instructive  and  ennobling.  Hence  that  study  of  plants  and 
animals,  which  ought  to  enlarge  the  mind,  may  lead  it  by  de- 
grees to  expend  itself  on  insignificant  questions.  An  inter- 
course with  Nature,  which  ought  to  fill  the  memory  and 
imagination  with  her  forms  of  beauty  and  sublimity,  may 
become,  through  perverse  habits,  the  means  of  contracting  it 
to  the  mere  culling  of  simples  or  to  the  mere  imposing  of 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE  PERFECTION. 


337 


technical  names.  It  is  the  same  with  the  legitimate  moral 
tendency  of  these  studies.  That  naturahsts  are  usually  in- 
genuous, kindly,  and  free  from  the  taint  of  sordid  passion, 
must  be  accepted  as  some  proof  that  their  pursuits  are  friendly 
to  virtue.  Indeed,  his  affections  must  be  torpid  to  a  ipournful 
degree  whose  heart  is  not  touched  with  the  light  which  much 
intercourse  with  the  inferior  orders  of  beings  tends  to  cast  on 
their  wants,  their  instincts,  their  habits.  Little,  too,  can  he 
think  of  God,  or  of  his  own  soul,  who  can  trace  the  structure 
of  these  beings,  their  manifold  variety,  their  wondrous  adapta- 
tions, without  being  drawn  nearer  to  Him  who  holds  in  his 
hand  the  breath  of  every  living  thing.  Little,  again,  can  he 
know  of  the  weakness  of  his  own  understanding,  or  of  the 
boundless  views  of  creation  which  such  studies  open  before 
his  mind,  who  does  not  learn  from  them  some  lessons  of 
meekness  and  humility.  ''TJie  works  of  the  Lord  are  great, 
sought  out  of  all  them  that  have  pleasure  therein."  It  would 
seem  that  he  must  be  conscious  of  that  within  him,  which  is 
at  war  with  God's  majesty,  who  can  gaze  on  these  works  and 
yet  shut  his  eyes  to  the  perception  of  their  Maker  and  Pre- 
server, who  can  trace  that  which  reveals  at  every  step  the 
handiwork  of  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness,  and  yet  not  own 
his  presence.  It  must  be  because  God's  works  are  not  pleas- 
ant to  him,  because  they  raise  conceptions  of  his  greatness 
and  power,  which,  coupled  with  our  impressible  consciousness 
of  guilt,  warn  us  that  there  is  danger  in  having  to  do  with 
such  a  Being.  Alas!  that  men  will  not  consider  that  this 
danger  is  only  increased  by  being  disregarded,  that  our  rela- 
tions to  the  Most  High  are  fixed  and  unalterable,  and  that 
the  hour  is  at  hand  when  we  must  meet,  and  forever  know 
Him  as  an  Enemy  or  as  a  Friend. 

We  cannot  close  these  remarks,  on  the  influence  which 
plants  and  animals  in  their  natural  state  have  on  the  higher 
welfare  of  men,  without  adverting  for  one  moment  to  their 
social  and  political  tendencies.      In  the   Natural    Flora  and 

22 


338 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


Fauna  of  a  country  wc  shall  generally  find  a  key  to  its  earlier 
history.  The  scenery  which  impresses  itself  so  deeply  on 
national  character,  and  especially  on  the  character  of  an  un- 
civilized people,  derives  much  of  its  peculiar  influence  from 
the  prevailing  vegetation.  From  the  kind  of  food,  too,  which 
it  yields  in  greatest  abundance,  will  flow  many  important 
consequences  in  respect  to  the  rude  industry  and  the  domestic 
life  of  a  people.  No  one  can  reflect  that  the  inhabitants  of 
tropical  regions  subsist  on  watery  and  saccharine  fruits,  grow- 
ing almost  spontaneously,  while  those  of  the  arctic  and  ant- 
arctic zones  feed  almost  exclusively  on  flesh  or  fish,  procured 
with  severe  labor,  prosecuted  often  for  weeks  at  a  distance 
from  home,  without  perceiving  that  here  are  influences  which 
must  blend  themselves  with  the  whole  current  of  social  and 
political  life.  It  is  a  subject  which  deserves  a  much  more 
extended  discussion  than  we  can  give  to  it  in  this  place. 

We  only  remark,  in  passing,  that  the  general  tendency 
everywhere  is  to  unite  men  in  societies,  and  thus  to  prepare 
the  way  for  progress.  It  is  also  worthy  of  notice  that  where- 
ever  severe  labor  would  be  oppressive,  as  in  very  hot  climates, 
there  subsistence  is  obtained  with  ease;  wherever,  on  the 
other  hand,  labor  is  desirable  in  order  to  keep  up  the  healthy 
currents  of  life,  and  is  also  agreeable  on  account  of  the  cold- 
ness of  the  climate,  there  subsistence  is  gained  only  by  strenu- 
ous and  incessant  effort. 

2.  Having  thus  indicated  some  of  the  ways  in  which  man's 
moral  and  intellectual  welfare  may  be  promoted  through 
plants  and  animals  in  their  statural  state,  we  refer,  in  con- 
clusion, to  the  influence  which  they  exert  through  the  trans- 
formations effected  by  art.  It  is  well  worthy  of  remark  that 
few  even  of  man's  physical  wants  are  supplied  by  organic 
substances  in  their  natural  state.  Inferior  animals  (mammalia 
and  birds)  have  natural  clothing  of  hair,  feathers,  or  wool. 
The  state  in  which  they  find  food,  whether  it  be  growing  on 
stems  or  roaming  through   the  wilderness  or  swimming  in 


LIFE- POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE  PERFECTION.     239 

water  or  flying  through  the  air,  this,  the  natural  state  of  food, 
is  the  state  in  which  they  consume  it.  With  man  it  is  other- 
wise. He  has  no  natural  covering,  and  his  food  must  be  pre- 
pared for  his  use  by  cooking.  The  final  cause  of  this  dif- 
ference is  obvious.  Animals  are  to  win  their  sustenance 
without  any  except  the  most  limited  intelligence,  and  hence 
their  resources  are  natural  and  instinctive.  Man  is  to  obtain 
his  through  intelligence  and  systematic  effort;  and  hence 
plants  and  animals  are  so  constituted  on  one  hand,  and  hu- 
man tastes  and  desires  so  ordered  on  the  other,  that  intel- 
ligence shall  be  taxed  and  systematic  effort  enlisted  in  this 
work.  The  industrial  efforts  of  mankind,  their  agriculture, 
commerce,  and  manufactures,  are  nearly  all  employed  in  pro- 
ducing the  raw  materials  of  food,  clothing,  and  edifices,  in 
transforming  them  into  states  better  adapted  to  human  wants, 
and  in  transporting  them  from  places  where  they  are  abun- 
dant to  other  places  where  they  are  in  demand.  But  can  these 
efforts  be  made  without  developing  intellect  and  subjecting 
the  moral  powers  of  men  to  a  salutary  ordeal?  Take  cotton- 
cloth  for  example.  It  forms  now  a  large  part  of  the  raiment 
of  civilized  nations  over  the  globe.  But  it  does  not  grow  as 
cloth  in  our  fields.  On  the  contrary,  it  grows  a  light,  soft 
down  in  the  seed-vessel  of  a  plant.  From  that  vessel,  and  its 
contained  seeds,  it  must  be  separated  with  great  care  and 
labor.  It  must  then  be  packed  by  the  aid  of  mechanical  power 
into  bales,  and  transported  from  the  cottonfield  to  some  dis- 
tant manufacturer,  where  perhaps  it  is  only  picked  and  carded, 
being  sent  to  another  manufacturer  to  be  spun,  to  another, 
again,  to  be  woven,  and  so  on  through  eight  or  nine  pro- 
cesses, 

A  pound  of  cotton  has  been  traced  from  the  East  Indies 
to  London,  from  London  to  Lancashire,  from  Lancashire  to 
Paisley;  thence  to  Dumbarton,  thence  to  Glasgow,  thence 
back  to  Paisley,  and  thence  to  the  retailer  of  calico  in  Lon- 
don, having  received  additional  value  at  every  new  stage  in 


340 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


this  long  journey  of  sixteen  thousand  miles.  It  was  computed 
that  one  hundred  and  fifty  persons  had  applied  labor  to  it  in 
its  way  from  the  first  producer  in  India  to  the  purchaser  and 
consumer  in  London ;  and  that  its  value  had  increased  two 
thousand  per  cent.  But  who  shall  compute  the  moral  and 
intellectual  results  occasioned  by  that  single  pound  of  cotton? 
Each  one  of  the  hundred  and  fifty  persons  who  contributed  to 
its  ultimate  value  was  more  or  less  incited  by  it  to  industry, 
—  industry  which  always  implies  some  degree  of  attention, 
thoughtfulness,  and  skill, — each  one  was  encouraged  to  punct- 
uality, fidelity,  and  self-control.  On  the  other  hand,  the  calico 
which  has  been  evolved  from  it,  being  an  object  of  desire  to 
many  persons,  is  to  them  also  a  motive  to  industry,  frugality, 
fidelity,  and  self-denial ;  while  to  the  individual  who  finally 
wears  it,  the  possession  of  decent  and  comfortable  clothing  is 
an  incentive  to  self-respect  and  to  respect  for  others.  Here, 
however,  as  in  everything  else  that  concerns  man,  motives  to 
duty  can  be  transformed  into  an  occasion  of  sin.  At  every 
step  of  its  progress,  from  the  seed  planted  to  the  cloth  sold 
and  worn,  it  has  served  as  the  touchstone  of  character.  While 
it  has  urged  to  diligence  and  honesty,  it  has  also  presented 
opportunity  and  inducement  for  negligence  and  fraud.  Thus 
does  God  display  his  moral  character,  and  foreshadow  the 
principle  of  his  retributory  system  in  all  his  arrangements  for 
human  welfare.  True  spiritual  excellence  in  man  must  be 
the  fruit  of  effort  and  self-control.  Hence  God  has  consti- 
tuted his  nature  such  that,  in  all  the  concerns  and  vicis- 
situdes of  life,  he  shall  be  at  once  "  able  to  stand  yet  free  to 
fall." 

The  necessity  thus  laid  on  man  of  applying  his  intellectual 
and  moral  faculties,  as  well  as  his  physical  powers,  to  pro- 
ducing plants  and  animals,  and  preparing  them  for  use,  is  the 
prolific  parent  of  social diwd political  blessings.  The  Agriculture 
of  a  people  is  occupied  almost  exclusively  in  the  production 
o{  organic  substances  for  human  consumption.     Nine-tenths  of 


LIFE-POWER  A    WITNESS  FOR  DIVINE  PERFECTION 


341 


the  commerce  and  manufactures  of  almost  every  country  are 
applied  to  the  same  end.  But  out  of  Commerce,  Manu- 
factures, and  Agriculture  grow  Law,  Government,  and  Litera- 
ture. Whatever  influence,  then,  all  these  can  exert  on  the 
institutions  and  civilization  of  a  people  is  an  influence  much 
of  which  must  be  traced  back  to  this  necessity,  imposed  on 
man  by  his  Creator,  of  subsisting  on  plants  and  animals  only 
through  labor.  And  the  influence  it  exerts  on  any  one  nation 
is  but  a  type  of  that  which  it  exerts  on  the  intercourse  and 
relations  of  independent  States.  Those  substances  produced 
only  in  one  country  but  desired  in  others,  become  the  all- 
prevailing  Pacificators  between  nations.  They  are  gradually 
binding  the  countries  of  the  world  into  one  great  league  of 
amity  and  mutual  co-operation.  If  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States  are  enabled  to  settle  grave  and  irritating  diffi- 
culties by  negotiation  rather  than  by  bloodshed,  we  owe  that 
happy  result  not  simply  to  the  Wisdom  and  Moderation  of 
Prime  Ministers  and  Plenipotentiaries,  but  still  more,  perhaps, 
to  the  unobserved  but  all-powerful  mediation  which  God  has 
assigned  to  the  cotton-plant  and  to  Indian-corn. 

Even  uncivilized  nations  feel  this  benignant  influence.  De- 
sire for  the  produce  of  art  is  quickly  awakened  among  bar- 
barians of  every  clime ;  and  as  their  country  almost  invariably 
produces  something  which  has  value  in  the  eye  of  civilized 
people,  intercourse  is  thus  established.  Industry  is  substituted 
for  the  roving  idleness  of  the  woods,  and  the  influences  of  art 
and  refinement  are  transmitted  from  those  more  cultivated  to 
those  less  so.  Yet  here  as  elsewhere  is  an  agency  that  may 
be  abused.  How  often  has  commerce  that  ought  to  be  only 
the  Benefactor  and  Civilizer  of  untutored  barbarians  proved 
to  be  their  foe!  How  often  have  the  ships  of  even  Christian 
navigators  gone  to  those  people  freighted  with  disease  and 
moral  contamination !  How  often  have  alcohol  and  opium 
and  gunpowder  been  smuggled  in  where  they  could  only 
work  mischief,  and  where  they  were  unscrupulously  employed, 


342 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


by  the  cunning  and  unprincipled,  to  debauch  and  enslave  those 
to  whom  they  were  bound,  by  the  most  solemn  obligations, 
not  only  of  charity,  but  also  of  honor  and  of  gratitude !  If 
there  be  awful  retribution  in  Heaven,  it  must  surely  be  reserved 
for  those  whose  ruthless  spirit  of  gain  can  thus  pervert  God's 
best  ministers  of  good  to  man  into  agents  for  his  ruin. 


PART  III. 


Man  a  Witness. 


BOOK  I. 

THE  BODY  A  WITNESS  AGAINST  MATERIALISM. 


WE  have  now  considered  the  manner  in  which  living 
,  creatures  inferior  to   man  have  been  adapted  to  the 

promotion  of  his  happiness  and  welfare ;  and  in  these  adapta- 
tions we  have  seen  impressive  evidence  that  the  Creator  is 
not  only  wise  and  powerful,  but  also  benevolent  and  holy. 
Tlie  same  conclusion  will  be  forced  upon  us,  if  we  examine 
the  Constitution  of  Man  himself  as  a  Physical,  Intellectual,  and 
Moral  Being.  The  Divine  Being  presents  us  nowhere  in 
nature  with  a  monument  of  his  moral  perfections  so  grand, 
nor  does  He  anywhere,  except  in  his  Written  Word,  read 
to  us  such  pointed  admonitions,  in  respect  to  our  duty  and 
destiny,  as  may  be  found,  if  we  carefully  consider  how  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  we  are  made  in  respect  to  body,  soul, 
and  spirit. 

As  we  intimated  in  the  last  chapter,  man  is  made  up  of 
different  and,  in  some  respects,  independent  natures.  He  was 
once  regarded  as  a  Microcosm,  and,  in  a  sense  higher  and 
truer  than  was  dreamed  of  by  the  Poets  or  Philosophers  of  old, 
he  is  so.  He  is  a  system  of  matter,  in  which  chemical  and 
mechanical  forces  are  constantly  at  work.  But  he  is  more ; 
inasmuch  as  there  are  functions  and  changes  in  his  body 
which  can  be  resolved  into  no  known  Physical  Laws,  and 
which  seem  to  prove  beyond  a  peradventure  that  his  stomach 
is  something  higher  than  a  chemical  retort,  and  his  heart  and 
blood-vessels  more  and  better  than  hydraulic  machines.     We 

(  345  ) 


346 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


are  constrained  to  conclude  that  there  is  a  subjective  and  im- 
material power,  which  we  call  Life,  that  masters  and  subordi- 
nates to  its  own  special  uses  all  merely  physical  agents,  and 
that  organizes  and  builds  up  a  frame  which,  in  its  merely  vital 
and  vegetative  organs,  may  be  regarded  as  a  plant.  But  as  the 
phenomena  of  Life  compel  us  to  assume  the  existence  of 
something  in  man  higher  than  matter,  so  the  phenomena  of 
sensation  and  voluntary  locomotion  lead  us  to  the  assumption 
that  he  has  that  also  which  is  higher  than  life, — even  an 
animal  soul,  which  is  governed  mainly  by  instincts ;  and  back 
of  these  lie  another  and  most  striking  class  of  phenomena, — 
those  of  free  and  deliberative  intelligence,  of  self-conscious- 
ness, and  of  moral  perception, — which  constrain  us  to  infer 
that  there  is  in  man  more  than  instinct,  more  than  animal 
organization,  even  a  spirit  kindred  in  its  nature  and  essence, 
though  not,  alas !  in  its  temper  to  the  spirit  of  God. 

The  existence  of  such  a  spirit  in  man,  as  a  free,  deliberarive, 
self-conscious,  and  accountable  agent,  as  God's  own  witness 
in  the  soul  will  be  apparent  to  some  extent,  if  we  merely 
consider — I.  ThQ  physical  condition  of  man  by  nature,  and  his 
physical  history  as  contrasted  with  that  of  animals.  II.  The 
structure  ajid  functions  of  his  physical  organisation.  We  shall 
find  that  even  on  man's  lowest  nature  there  has  been  written 
the  clearest  witness  of  the  existence  and  supremacy  of  his 
higher  endowments  and  to  his  consequent  responsibility. 

I.  What  is  man's  physical  condition  by  nature?  Suppose 
him  brought  into  the  world  for  the  first  time,  as  some  inferior 
animals  are  born,  matured  in  size  and  strength.  Suppose  him 
left,  as  they  are  often  left,  unaided  and  solitary,  with  no  guide 
but  instinct,  and  no  physical  resources  but  those  of  his  own 
body.  Regard  him,  in  other  words,  as  a  mere  animal,  having 
no  powers  but  such  as  result  from  organization  or  are  im- 
planted full  grown  in  his  nature.  In  order  to  aid  us  in  this 
hypothetical  inquiry,  let  us  imagine  that  by  his  side  we  have 
one  of  those  insects,  which  may  be  regarded  as  a  fair  repre- 


THE  BODY  A    WITNESS  AGAINST  MATERIALISM.     34'r 

sentative  of  existences  merely  animal.  Take,  for  instance, 
the  Buprestis,  one  of  the  coleopterous  order,  which  may  stand 
as  a  type  of  the  family  of  beetles.  The  animal  Buprestis  and 
the  animal  man  (if  he  be  but  an  animal)  are  to  get  food,  de 
fend  themselves  against  enemies,  and  provide  shelter  both  foi 
themselves  and  their  young  by  the  use  of  none  but  natural 
weapons  and  instinctive  intelligence.  For  this  purpose  what 
has  the  insect  ?  It  has  a  coat  of  mail  over  its  body.  It  has 
two  wings  to  carry  it  from  place  to  place,  and  over  these 
wings  it  has  elytra,  or  hard  shields,  to  protect  them  from  harm. 
It  has  a  hard  cuirass  over  its  breast;  its  eyes  are  shielded 
from  the  thorn  of  the  eglantine  and  the  stings  of  enemies  by 
a  strong  but  delicate  network ;  its  legs  enable  it  to  overtake 
its  prey;  its  mandibles  seize  and  devour  it,  and  at  the  same 
time  dig  caves  in  the  ground  to  receive  its  booty  or  its  eggs; 
and  when  hard  pushed  by  an  enemy  it  discharges  an  offensive 
and  corrosive  liquid,  which  quickly  drives  the  enemy  away. 
Could  all  human  ingenuity  be  directed  to  the  structure  and 
functions  of  this  insect,  it  is  doubtful  whether  all  human  in- 
genuity could  suggest  a  single  improvement. 

But  how  is  it  with  the  animal  man?  Where  is  the  strong 
and  hard  shield  that  protects  his  body ;  where  his  natural 
weapons  for  attack  or  for  defence ;  where  his  natural  fleetness 
to  overtake  prey;  where  his  implements  for  digging,  cutting, 
or  building;  where  his  protection  against  the  frosts  of  winter? 
Alas  !  if  man  be  but  an  animal,  whose  powers  are  the  result  of 
organization  only,  whose  career  is  to  be  carried  forward  in 
virtue  of  pure  instincts,  he  is  of  all  animals  the  most  forlorn 
and  helpless.  No  insect  so  humble  but  his  lot  might  be- 
come to  our  race  the  object  of  envy.  Experience  affords  us 
no  example  of  man  thus  cast  adrift,  alone  on  the  wide  world, 
with  no  resource  but  his  organism  and  his  instincts,  and  this  for 
the  simple  reason  that  such  a  man's  existence  would  quickly 
end.  Even  Alexander  Selkirk,  with  all  the  advantages  of  his 
past  experience,  and  of  an  education  which  embodied  much 


348 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


of  the  accumulated  intelligence  of  the  world,  furnished,  too, 
with  a  supply  of  food  and  clothing  for  present  wants,  and  not 
left  without  tools,  found  it  sufficiently  difficult  to  maintain 
life  on  his  solitary  island.  How  would  it  have  been  if  he 
had  found  himself  there  in  the  condition  of  the  Buprestis, 
when  it  bursts  from  its  chrysalid  sleep,  and  comes  forth 
without  experience,  and  without  store  of  food,  to  provide  for 
itself? 

And  yet  what  is  man's  physical  history?  In  his  infancy, 
the  most  dependent  of  animals ;  in  his  maturity,  the  most 
destitute  in  respect  to  instincts,  to  natural  clothing,  and  to 
natural  means  for  gaining  food  or  driving  off  foes, — he  is  yet 
the  lord  of  flic  creation.  The  fear  of  him  and  the  dread  of 
him  is  on  every  beast  of  the  field,  and  every  fowl  of  the  air, 
and  on  everything  that  creepeth  on  the  ground.  He  can 
neither  wrestle  with  the  bear,  nor  swim  with  the  otter,  nor 
climb  with  the  monkey,  nor  leap  with  the  tiger,  and  yet  he 
can  capture  and  destroy  them  all.  He  can  subjugate  the 
most  fierce  and  stormy  of  Nature's  elements.  He  can  tame 
the  lightning  ;  bringing  it  in  harmless  silence  to  his  feet,  or 
he  can  charge  it  with  messages  of  friendship  or  tidings  of 
business,  and  bid  it  go  for  him  thousands  of  miles  in  one 
second  of  time.  He  can  harness  wind,  water,  steam  to  his 
machinery,  and  employ  them  in  fabricating  cloth  to  cover  his 
defenceless  body,  food  to  supply  his  fastidious  and  ever-vary- 
ing tastes,  houses  to  shelter  him,  and  books  and  pictures  for 
his  instruction  or  delight.  He  can  explore  by  thought  the 
realms  of  space,  travel  back  over  all  the  history  of  the  past, 
and  predict  for  thousands  of  years  in  advance  the  obscuration 
of  some  planet  or  the  transit  of  some  star.  He  can  take  his 
stand  in  thought,  on  what  is  deemed  the  outermost  verge  of 
our  solar  system,  at  a  distance  of  one  thousand  seven  hundred 
millions  of  miles  from  the  globe  on  which  he  dwells,  and 
there  he  can  seem  to  feci  beneath  his  feet  the  restless  heav-^ 
ings  of  a  great  sphere,  pointing  to  some  perturbing  force  still 


rilE   BODY  A    WITNESS  AGAINST  MATERIALISM,     ^.aq 

farther  in  the  distance.  The  amount  of  that  perturbation  he 
can  calculate  ;  he  can  determine  where  and  of  what  nature  the 
body  must  be  which  could  occasion  it;  he  can  affirm  that 
body's  existence,  though  it  be  yet  unknown,  and  directing 
his  space-penetrating  tube  into  the  dim  distance,  he  can  de- 
tect the  undiscovered  voyager,  and  thus  show  how  the  facts 
of  practical  verify  the  deductions  of  physical  Astronomy. 
Nay,  he  can  pass,  restless  and  adventurous  as  he  is,  beyond 
the  bounds  of  space  and  time,  and  sing  of  that  which  has 
transpired  in  Heaven  or  been  perpetrated  in  Hell.  He  can 
represent  to  himself  Nature's  immaterial  and  spiritual  beings, 
and  can  reason  well  of  their  high  faculties,  their  solemn  re- 
sponsibilities, and  of  the  endless  career  which  lies  in  prospect 
before  them. 

And  wherefore?  Whence  achievements  so  grand  by  a  being 
so  apparently  helpless  ?  Is  it  not  because  nian  is  more  than 
animal  and  scarcely  less  than  angel  ?  Reared  by  slow  de- 
grees from  helpless  infancy  to  a  height  so  transcendent  and 
sublime,  does  he  not  show  that  he  has  within  him  powers  of 
free  and  ever-progressive  intelligence,  and  that  he  has  had 
breathed  into  him  a  portion  of  the  "  Inspiration  of  the  Al- 
mighty," and  that  he  employs  his  organs  and  his  body  only 
as  humble  instruments  of  a  spiritual  development  ?  That  such 
is,  indeed,  the  fact,  will  be  still  more  apparent  if  we  examine 
somewhat  in  detail — 

II.  Man's  oj'ganisjii.  Begin  at  the  base  of  his  skeleton,  and 
ascend  till  yon  reach  the  summit.  This  column  was  evi- 
dently intended  for  an  erect  posture,  since  every  human  being, 
though  compelled  in  infancy  to  take  the  horizontal  posi- 
tion, or  go  on  all-fours,  finally  attains  to  an  upright  posture. 
and  when  moving  progressively  can  be  at  ease  in  no  other. 
That  it  is  the  posture  for  which  man  was  made  will  be  evi- 
dent, also,  if  we  examine  the  structure  of  the  body.  It  rests 
on  a  movable  basis,  composed  of  two  feet,  each  of  which  is 
made  up  of  arches,  that  are  adapted  alike  for  support  and  for 


250  ^■^■'^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

motion.  From  each  of  these  feet  (but  not  from  the  middle 
point  in  each,  since  the  weight  to  be  sustained  tends  to  fall 
forward  rather  than  backward)  rise  a  vertical  column  (the 
tibia  or  leg-bone),  and  from  the  summit  of  these,  again,  two 
other  columns,  inclining  outward  (the  thigh-bones),  on  which 
rests  the  broad  plinth  called  the  pelvis.  All  below  the  pelvis 
is  used  for  purposes  of  progression  or  support ;  all  above  is 
appropriated  either  to  the  vital  and  involuntary  functions,  or 
to  the  higher  offices  of  sensation,  thought,  and  voluntary- 
locomotion.  On  the  pelvis  rests  the  spinal  column,  composed 
of  a  great  number  of  bones,  articulated  so  as  to  allow  much  free- 
dom of  motion  to  the  trunk,  independent  of  the  lower  limbs. 
This  column,  in  order  to  provide  room  for  the  heart,  stomach, 
and  lungs,  and  at  the  same  time  secure  equipoise  and  graceful- 
ness of  motion,  has  a  double  flexure  like  the  italic  S,  being  in- 
clined backward  at  the  chest,  and  forward  at  the  loins.  On 
the  summit  of  this  column  rests  the  head,  the  ensign  of  thought 
and  of  command. 

All  these  provisions,  and  especially  that  which  has  adapted 
two  only  of  the  four  extremities  to  support,  point  clearly  to 
the  erect  posture  as  that  for  which  man  alone,  of  all  animals, 
was  made.  This  posture  can  be  maintained  only  by  the  use 
of  a  much  larger  number  of  muscles  than  has  to  be  used  for 
that  purpose  by  any  other  animal ;  and  these  muscles  are  to 
be  moved,  not  as  in  many  lower  animals,  by  virtue  of  some 
unerring  instinct,  but  through  deliberation  and  choice.  The 
young  not  only  of  quadrupeds,  but  of  some  biped  animals, 
walk  from  the  instant  that  they  are  born ;  the  young  of  the 
human  species  learn  to  walk  by  many  unsuccessful  trials.  In 
this  erect  posture,  then,  we  see  evidence  that  man  is  a  free 
intelligent  agent,  not  governed  by  instinct  only,  but  endowed 
with  a  deliberate  mastery  over  his  own  body  which  is  given 
to  no  other  animal.  We  see  evidence,  too,  that  man  is  eman- 
cipated from  subjection  to  mere  animal  wants ;  and  in  the 
manner  in  which  his  head  rises  towards  heaven,  we  seem  to 


I 


THE  BODY  A    WITNESS  AGAINST  MATERIALISM. 


351 


have   indication   of  the  supremacy  of  his  spiritual  over  his 
sensual  nature. 

The  same  conclusion  is  reached  when  we  examine  tJie  head, 
and  compare  the  relative  space  occupied  by  the  cranium,  or 
that  portion  of  the  skull  which  surrounds  the  brain,  and  that 
occupied  by  the  organs  of  sensation,  or  by  those  allotted  to 
the  reception  and  preparation  of  food.  Organs  of  sensation 
indicate,  by  their  proportional  development,  the  degree  to 
which  an  animal  is  subjected  to  excitants  from  without ;  the 
development  of  the  jaws  and  mouth  indicates  its  relative 
voracity.  Now,  tried  by  these  tests,  man  proves  to  be  less 
voracious  and  less  subservient  to  outward  excitants  than  any 
other  animal.  His  brain,  in  other  words,  bears  a  much  larger 
proportion  to  the  rest  of  the  head.  What  has  been  called  the 
facial  angle — formed  by  two  lines,  one  dropped  from  the  most 
prominent  part  of  the  forehead  to  the  sockets  of  the  upper 
incisor  teeth,  the  other  drawn  from  these  sockets  through  the 
lower  part  of  the  nose  and  the  meatus  of  the  ear — is  in  man 
nearly  a  right  angle.  In  animals,  as  we  descend  from  the 
ape  to  the  fish,  this  angle  diminishes,  the  brain  being  less 
prominent,  the  organs  of  mastication  and  of  sensation  being 
more  so.  In  the  enormous  jaws  of  the  shark  or  crocodile, 
and  in  the  huge  mandibles  of  the  stork  or  pelican,  we  see  how 
the  predominance  of  the  animal  appetites  has  been  shadowed 
forth  in  their  appropriate  organs ;  while  in  man's  head  we 
have  indication  how  he  was  made  for  the  exercise  of  thought 
and  self-government. 

So  is  it  with  his  hands.  By  his  erect  posture  and  gait, 
these  anterior  extremities  are  liberated  from  the  purpose  of 
progression  to  which  they  are  applied  in  most  other  animals, 
and  are  left  to  be  employed  at  the  pleasure  of  their  possessor. 
They  seem,  too,  to  be  studiously  fitted  not  for  any  special  use 
but  for  an  endless  variety  of  motions.  Suppose  that  instead 
of  being  divided  into  fingers,  the  hands  were  composed  of  one 
fleshy  or  bony  mass ;  or  suppose  that  the  fingers  instead  of 


352 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


three  joints  bad  but  one,  or  liad  none ;  or  suppose  that  the  band 
were  without  a  thumb,  or  tliat  the  thumb  of  man  was  hke  the 
thumb  of  the  baboon, — in  either  case  the  range  of  man's 
activity  would  be  essentially  circumscribed.  Formed  as  this 
wonderful  organ  is,  it  is  adapted  alike  to  action  and  percep- 
tion;  alike  to  industry,  to  literature,  and  to  the  arts  of  De- 
sign ;  alike  to  attack  and  to  defence,  to  the  fabrication  of 
every  kind  of  tool,  and  to  the  wielding  of  every  kind  of 
weapon.  Suppose  man  to  be  a  reflective,  self-conscious,  and 
progressive  being,  endowed  with  a  high  and  free  intelligence, 
and  then  we  can  conceive  of  no  natural  instrument  more  per- 
fect than  his  hand.  Suppose  him  to  be  an  animal  endowed 
only  with  instincts,  and  predetermined  by  his  organization  to 
a  certain  career,  and  then  we  can  hardly  conceive  of  an  instru- 
ment less  fitted  for  his  purposes.  Its  whole  value  seems  to 
lie  in  its  being  the  appropriate  instrument  of  adlibitive  intel- 
ligence. Because,  deprived  of  that  instrument,  man's  reason 
would  be  comparatively  powerless,  some  have  ascribed  his 
superiority  not  to  any  spiritual  ascendency,  but  simply  to  the 
greater  excellence  of  that  organ.  But  man's  hand  would  have 
accomplished  little  for  him  without  his  higher  faculties ;  and 
it  would  be  as  reasonable  to  infer  that  Shakspcarc  owed  his 
genius  to  his  pen,  because  without  it  he  could  not  have  writ- 
ten Macbeth,  as  to  conclude  that  man  owes  his  supremacy 
to  this  structure  of  the  hand,  because  he  needs  it  in  order 
to  give  effect  to  his  intelligence  and  spiritual  purposes. 

Corresponding  evidence  that  there  is  a  spirit  in  man,  and 
that  his  body  is  but  the  instrument  of  this  spirit,  is  found  in 
almost  every  organ.  For  example,  tJic  apparatus  for  motion  in 
man  is  fitted  to  a  number  and  variety  of  muscular  movements, 
much  greater  than  can  be  made  by  any  animal.  These  move- 
ments, too,  are  more  under  the  direction  of  deliberative  intel- 
ligence, are  naturally  more  graceful,  and  are  more  expressive 
of  ideas  and  sentiments.  So  with  the  organs  of  alimentation 
and  reproduction  in  man.     For  their  safe  and  proper  use  they 


THE   BODY  A    WITNESS  AGAINST  MATERIALISM. 


353 


require  on  his  part  consideration  and  self-control  to  a  degree 
not  known  among  animals.  It  is  the  same  with  the  7'cspira- 
tory  organs.  In  man  these  are  subservient  not  merely  to 
breathing  and  uttering  natural  cries,  but  also  to  laughing,  to 
articulate  speech,  and  to  expressing  every  shade  of  emotion, 
while  through  their  connection  with  the  brain,  the  heart,  and 
the  muscles  of  the  face,  they  cause  the  passions  of  the  mind 
to  repeat  themselves  on  the  countenance  and  in  the  action 
of  the  vital  organs. 

The  organs  of  sensation,  reflection,  and  locomotion  in  man, 
when  compared  with  those  of  animals,  lead  to  the  same  con- 
clusion. In  the  lower  tribes,  the  impression  which  is  made  on 
the  nerves  of  sensation  seems  to  react  immediately  on  the 
motor  nerves,  so  that  the  motions  are  in  a  good  degree  in- 
stinctive, no  thought  or  deliberation  being  interposed.  As  we 
ascend  to  those  of  higher  rank,  the  cerebral  mass  is  greater, 
and  in  the  same  proportion  they  are  enabled,  we  find,  to  in- 
terpose thought  and  contrivance  between  a  sensation,  ending 
in  desire  and  the  corresponding  action.  Now,  the  cerebral 
organ  in  man  is  much  larger  in  proportion  to  the  whole  bulk 
of  his  body  than  that  of  any  animal,  being  the  1-35  part  of  his 
whole  weight;  whereas  in  the  dog  it  is  but  1-120;  in  the 
horse,  1-450;  in  the  sheep,  1-750;  and  in  the  ox,  1-800.  Thus 
loudly  does  our  organism  call  us  to  the  exercise  of  pre-emi- 
nent forecast,  to  "  large  discourse  of  reason,"  and  it  does  it 
all  the  more  loudly  that  an  organ  in  man  does  not  prede- 
termine, as  in  animals,  its  full  and  proper  use.  Wherever  and 
in  whatever  degree  they  possess  an  organ,  there  we  find  the 
corresponding  faculty  in  full  exercise,  whereas  in  man  this 
faculty  may  be  wholly  buried  or  essentially  perverted. 

The  same  lesson  is  taught  by  the  organs  of  perception  and 
by  those  o{  speech.  The  young  of  most  animals  see  and  hear 
perfectly  from  the  first ;  the  young  of  our  race  learn  to  see  and 
hear  by  a  sloiv  and  somewhat  laborious  process,  coming  only  by 
degrees  to  associate  any  sensations  which  they  experience 

23 


354 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


with  the  external  objects  which  occasioned  them,  and  with 
the  proper  nature  and  place  of  those  objects.  It  has  been 
well  said  of  our  organs  of  perception  that  they  are  by  nature 
"  adjustable  but  not  adjusted."  In  most  cases,  the  art  of  ad- 
justing and  using  them  is  learned  so  early  in  life  that  we  are 
unconscious  of  the  process.  But  where  one  born  blind  is 
restored  to  sight  in  later  years,  the  dependence  of  the  senses 
upon  the  higher  mental  faculties,  and  the  manner  in  which  all 
impressions  upon  them  derive  their  value  and  significance 
from  the  exercise  of  those  faculties,  becomes  at  once  apparent. 
It  is  the  sa»me  with  the  organs  of  speech.  Not  merely  articu- 
lation, but  gesture,  attitude,  expression  of  face,  and  variety  of 
tones,  all  point  to  man's  pre-eminent  endowments  as  a  rational 
being,  and  all  show  how  the  successful  use  of  his  animal  gifts 
depends  upon  the  possession  and  due  development  of  spiritual 
faculties. 

Materialism.  We  conclude,  then,  that  man's  material 
organism  cannot  be  the  cause  of  his  intelligence  and  volun- 
tary activity,  but  is  rather  their  instrument.  When  carefully 
considered,  in  respect  to  its  structure  and  functions,  each 
organ  seems  to  point  up  towards  a  spiritual  power  in  man, 
and  nothing  but  the  assumption  of  such  a  power  can  make  it 
intelligible.  We  will  add  here  but  a  few  words  concerning 
that  phase  of  materialism  which  would  resolve  all  mental 
activity  into  functions  of  the  brain.  It  seems  to  be  equally  at 
variance  with  facts  and  with  the  evidence  of  consciousness. 
When  we  perform  the  simplest  voluntary  act, — e.g.  take  up 
a  book  or  write  a  word, — does  not  our  own  consciousness 
teach  distinctly  that  besides  the  muscular  effort,  and  the  cor- 
responding nervous  irritation,  there  is  a  spiritual  or  imma- 
terial act,  in  the  volition  which  preceded  them,  and  in  the 
desire,  reflection,  and  forecast  which  led  to  that  volition  ? 
This  consciousness  is  still  more  clear  and  explicit  in  the  case 
of  acts  which  are  purely  mental ;  such  as  voluntary  efforts 
of  memory  (usually  called  recollection),  or  of  reflection  and 


THE  BODY  A    IVITjVESS  AGAINST  MATERIALISM.     r> 


55 


reasoning.  The  brain  may  be  employod  in  all  these  acts, 
just  as  the  pen,  the  hand,  the  arm  are  all  employed  in  writing 
down  this  sentence.  But  no  one  would  dream  of  referring 
the  power  which  conceived  the  sentence  either  to  the  arm, 
the  hand,  or  the  pen.  Why,  then,  refer  it  to  the  brain,  which 
consciousness  proclaims  is  but  another  link  in  the  chain  of 
means  and  instruments?  Every  language  contains  "words 
significant  of  spirit  as  distinguished  from  matter;  and  as 
every  language  is  the  mirror  which  reflects  to  us  the  natural 
and  necessary  convictions  of  those  who  used  it,  we  have  in 
this  fact  also  conclusive  proof  that  belief  in  the  proper  imma- 
teriality of  the  soul  is  the  spontaneous  growth  of  our  con- 
sciousness. 

The  facts  which  attest  the  validity  of  this  belief  are  very 
numerous.  We  advert  to  only  a  few  of  them.  The  mind 
can  react  upon  the  brain  even  when  this  organ  is  diseased. 
By  invoking  the  power  of  the  will  it  can  for  a  time  bring 
back  clearness  and  calmness  to  our  tumultuous  conceptions. 
Through  sudden  and  violent  emotion  it  can  arrest  the  pro- 
gress of  disease.  It  can,  by  a  stern  effort  at  self-command, 
tranquillize  the  agitation  of  the  nerves,  and  by  determined  re- 
sistance arrest  the  power  even  of  poisons  that  have  been  taken 
into  the  body.  In  cases  of  paralysis,  the  patient  tells  us  that 
his  brain  is  too  weak  to  allow  him  to  think  coherently ;  but 
his  soul  asserts  her  independence  by  perceivi-ng  and  mourn- 
ing over  the  imbecility  of  its  corporeal  instrument,  and  by 
remaining  alive  as  ever  to  moral  distinctions. 

The  fact  that  the  mind  appears  to  share  in  the  derangement 
of  its  special  organ,  is  nothing  more  than  we  ought  to  expect. 
It  is  through  that  organ  that  the  mind  manifests  itself.  If  the 
medium  of  manifestation  becomes  incapable  of  performing  its 
office,  we  must  expect  that  the  power  to  be  manifested  will 
disappear,  or  be  in  some  degree  obscured.  Our  abilit}^  to  read 
with  glasses  depends  on  their  clearness  and  proper  sphericity; 
but  we  do  not  therefore  conclude  that  reading  is  a  function  of 


35^ 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


spectacles,  much  less  a  function  of  those  which  have  only  a 
given  degree  of  clearness  and  sphericity.  But  our  limits  will 
not  permit  us  to  enlarge  further  on  this  subject  here.  We 
shall  resume  it  in  another  connection. 

Meanwhile  let  us  observe  the  light  which  these  views  cast 
upon  our  true  condition  and  our  proper  responsibility,  and 
also  the  corroboration  which  they  afford  to  the  moral  precepts 
of  the  Bible.  Independent  of  a  careful  study  of  the  different 
parts  of  our  constitution,  and  of  the  evident  subordination 
assigned  to  the  corporeal  organs,  we  might  suppose  that,  in 
obeying  animal  impulses  without  reflection,  we  were  obeying 
the  decrees  of  the  Creator;  and  we  might  imagine  that  there 
was  inconsistency  between  the  Natural  Law,  which  seems  to 
enjoin  or  authorize  indulgence,  and  the  Revealed  Law,  which 
commands  self-denial  and  moderation.  These  impressions 
must  disappear  before  a  full  and  candid  examination  even  of 
our  material  organization.  We  see  that,  even  on  our  lower 
nature,  is  inscribed  evidence  that  we  are  more  than  animals. 
The  body  points  upward  to  the  soul,  exhorts  us  to  prefer  its 
interests  before  all  things,  and  protests  against  an  unreflecting 
submission  to  appetite  or  passion.  On  such  submission  it 
brings  down  retribution  through  its  own  diseases  and  suffer- 
ings. And  in  the  impotence  and  the  perverted  cravings  which 
wait  on  the  abuse  of  its  organs,  it  yields  persuasive  proof  in 
favor  of  that  remedial  dispensation  which  offers  not  only 
pardon  for  our  sins,  but  also  strength  for  our  weakness  and  a 
power  to  cleanse  and  purify  all  our  corruption. 


BOOK    II. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE  SOUL  A   WITNESS  TO   THE  DIVINE  EXISTENCE. 

IN  the  preceding  Book  we  glanced  at  the  structure  and 
functions  of  man's  body,  and  compared  them  with  those 
of  inferior  animals.  We  saw  enough  of  unity  and  correspond- 
ence to  show  that  both  were  creations  of  the  same  mind  and 
hand  ;  but  we  saw,  also,  that  there  was  vast  dissimilarity.  In 
almost  every  respect  man's  organi:2ation  has  striking  peculi- 
arities, and  these  peculiarities  are  utterly  inexplicable,  except 
on  the  supposition  that  his  psychical  nature  is  pre-eminent  for 
its  endowments  over  those  of  any  class  of  animals.  The  pos- 
session of  a  free,  self-conscious,  and  discursive  intelligence, — 
of  a  Reason  vast  in  its  range,  ever-progressive  in  its  powers, 
deliberative  in  its  nature,  free  and  self-detrmined  in  its  voli- 
tions,— is  the  only  fact  which  will  explain  the  structure  even  of 
man's  body.  And  that  reason,  as  we  have  seen,  must  be  the 
attribute  or  function,  not  of  material  organs,  but  of  a  spiritual 
substance  which  we  characterize  as  soul  or  mind. 

The  Science  of  Soul,  then  (hence  called  Psychology),  or 
the  Science  of  Mind  (hence  called  Mental  Philosophy),  is  the 
source  from  which  we  propose  to  draw  a  new  series  of  argu- 
ments and  illustrations.  Rich  as  it  is  in  materials,  these  ma- 
terials have  been  hitherto  much  neglected.  But  kw  of  our 
popular  works  on  Natural  Theology  notice  the  psychologicac 
argument  at  all ;  and  even  they,  in  most  cases,  discuss  it  in 
only  a  cursory  manner.     Lord  Brougham  has  pointed  out  this 

(357) 


(58 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


deficiency,  but  has  not  supplied  it.  Dr.  Chalmers  has  pre- 
sented some  of  the  proofs  furnished  by  our  moral  constitu- 
tion ;  but  we  know  of  no  work  in  any  language — in  English 
there  is  certainly  none  —  in  which  the  argument  has  been 
largely  developed,  in  connection  with  a  rigorous  and  extended 
analysis  of  the  faculties  of  the  human  mind.  This  omission 
cannot  be  supplied  in  this  work,  but  it  is  to  be  regretted. 
Where  is  there  a  nobler  subject  of  contemplation  than  the 
soul  of  man  ?  Thought  can  fly  far  away  into  space,  beyond 
the  ken  of  our  largest  telescope.  Emotion  can  traverse  the 
ocean,  which  separates  loving  and  confiding  hearts,  with  more 
than  telegraphic  speed.  Fancy  can  explore  the  universe,  to 
gather  materials  for  her  airy  castles  in  a  moment  of  time. 
The  most  complicated  trains  of  thought  can  be  untwisted  and 
analyzed  with  a  celerity  which  leaves  behind  the  utmost  dex- 
terity and  skill  of  the  accomplished  chemist.  And  when 
we  think  of  the  manifold  and  seemingly  discordant  energies 
of  the  human  soul,  all  working  together  in  perfect  harmony, 
the  intellect  laboring  with  thought,  the  heart  fired  with  pas- 
sion, the  imagination  ranging  from  earth  to  heaven  and  from 
heaven  to  earth,  the  moral  sentiments  swelling  with  high  de- 
sign, and  all  these  powers  at  one  and  the  same  instant  collect- 
ing and  concentrating  themselves  in  some  mighty  and  noble 
volition  in  the  cause  of  truth  or  duty,  where  is  there  a  grander 
subject  for  thought,  or  one  more  likely  to  reflect  light  and 
glory  on  the  character  of  its  Author  and  Upholder  ? 

Illustrations  furnished  by  the  mind  possess,  moreover,  this 
advantage, — that  they  are  accessible  to  all.  Those  drawn 
from  Chemistry  and  Physiology  must,  in  many  cases,  be  taken 
on  authority.  The  facts  cannot  be  examined  by  the  hearer 
or  reader.  But  psychological  facts  are  open  to  such  exam- 
ination. They  transpire,  most  of  them,  in  each  one's  own 
breast.  They  can  be  remembered,  reproduced,  modified,  ob- 
served, and  thus  the  statements  of  the  teacher  be  verified  or 
corrected  by  the  scholar.     And  this  course  is  essential,  if  we 


THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS    TO  DIVINE   EXISTENCE. 


359 


would  clearly  apprehend  and  appreciate  the  facts  and  argu- 
ments which  are  about  to  be  presented.  They  are  taken  from 
each  one's  own  mental  experience,  and  each  one  must  look 
within,  therefore,  in  order  to  find  the  original  of  the  pictures 
which  are  drawn. 

And  are  there  not  other  advantages  in  such  a  line  of  argu- 
ment as  leads  to  the  contemplation  of  spiritual  rather  than 
material  facts  ?  The  soul  is  too  much  given  to  wandering 
abroad  in  quest  of  the  sensible  and  palpable.  This  propensity 
is  strengthened  by  the  majestic  advances  now  making  in  the 
material  arts  and  sciences.  We  need  studies  to  act  as  a  coun- 
terpoise. In  a  mystical  or  ideal  age  we  might  appeal  to  the 
external  world  for  facts  and  influences  to  redress  the  balance 
which  a  too  intense  and  constant  contemplation  of  the  spir- 
itual might  disturb.     But  this  is  not  our  danger  now. 

Consider,  too,  how  much  we  need  these  studies,  in  order  to 
refresh  our  memories  in  respect  to  the  worth  and  value  of  our 
souls.  The  capitalist  does  not  trust  merely  to  recollection  in 
respect  to  the  extent  of  his  possessions.  He  takes  down  his 
Rent  Roll ;  he  looks  over  his  Bonds  and  Mortgages  and  Cer- 
tificates of  Stock;  he  counts  his  coin,  and  thus  assures  him- 
self that  the /6'zccr  which  is  represented  by  all  these  is  a  power 
which  still  actually  belongs  to  him,  and  which  is  awaiting  his 
pleasure.  And  should  it  not  be  so  Avith  our  mental  endow- 
ments and  possessions  ?  How  shall  we  assure  ourselves  that 
they  are  ours,  or  measure  their  proper  and  surpassing  value, 
unless  we  survey  them  frequently  and  with  care  ?  Transient 
views,  hasty  glances,  are  not  sufficient. 

And  without  studying  our  minds,  how  shall  we  know  well 
how  to  use  them  ?  They  are  given  to  us  to  be  enlightened, 
moulded,  directed,  saved.  But  this  great  work  implies  self- 
knowledge,  self-knowledge  implies  self-examination,  and  self- 
examination,  if  it  would  not  mislead,  should  involve  a  com- 
prehensive and  searching  inspection  and  analysis  of  all  our 
mental  operations ;  for  any  one  class  of  them  is  mysteriously 


36o 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


but  most  essentially  affected  by  the  character  of  others,  as, 
for  instance,  the  conclusions  of  the  understanding  by  the  state 
of  the  feelings. 

He,  then,  may  felicitate  himself  who,  by  enlarging  on  the 
psychological  argument,  contributes  in  the  least  to  inspire  men 
with  some  taste  for  these  studies  ;  and  especially  may  he  do  so 
if  he  lead  them  to  cultivate  such  studies  in  a  religious  spirit 
and  for  the  attainment  of  religious  knowledge.  It  is  a  mournful 
fact,  that  men  can  pass  through  life  knowing  little  of  their  own 
natures,  though  wise  in  the  wisdom  of  the  world ;  keen  and 
sagacious  as  observers  and  reasoners  upon  the  conduct  of 
other  men,  but  ignorant  what  spirit  they  are  of  themselves; 
known  to  others,  but  unknown  to  themselves.  Nothing  can 
break  up  this  unholy  spell  but  strenuous  effort  to  study  our 
own  hearts, — to  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us;  and,  above  all, 
as  we  are  seen  and  known  by  the  All-seeing.  A  knowledge 
of  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind  in  general,  of  our  own 
minds  in  particular,  and  a  careful  comparison  between  the 
normal  and  the  actual  state  of  our  souls,  between  these  souls 
as  they  arc,  and  these  same  souls  as  they  ought  to  be, — nothing 
short  of  this  can  make  us  wise  indeed. 

We  come,  then,  to  ask,  what  testimony  lias  the  soul  to  give 
in  respect — I.  To  the  Divine  Existence  and  Oiaracter.  II.  To 
Man's  Duty  and  Destiny  ?  We  take  as  a  witness,  not  the  soul 
or  mind  of  any  particular  individual,  formed  in  this  or  that 
land,  in  this  or  that  age,  whose  native  characteristics  have 
been  modified,  in  some  respects  exaggerated,  in  others  im- 
paired, by  the  artificial  influence  of  education,  custom,  civil 
government,  literature,  or  religion.  We  take,  rather,  the 
average  man,  not  the  man  of  the  woods,  for  even  his  character 
has  been  greatly  affected  by  position  and  education ;  not  the 
man  of  the  city,  for  he  may  have  been  yet  more  thoroughly 
transformed,  but  the  Representative  man,  who  can  serve  as  the 
type  of  his  race,  who  embodies  those  fundamental,  charac- 
teristic, and  ineffaceable  attributes  which  belong  to  our  spe- 


THE   SOUL  A    WITNESS   TO  DIVINE   EXISTENCE.     361 

cies  everywhere  and  always,  who  is  made  known  to  us  partly 
through  our  own  consciousness,  partly  through  a  comparison 
of  our  mental  acts  with  what  we  learn  through  observation 
of  others,  partly  through  history,  partly  through  the  sketches 
and  portraits  drawn  by  great  masters  like  Homer  and  Shak- 
speare.  This  is  the  witness,  more  or  less  developed  and  re- 
flective in  his  habits,  whom  we  would  interrogate.  We  sup- 
pose him  destitute  of  all  bias  ox  prejudice, — for  the  time  being 
destitute,  too,  of  any  positive*  knowledge  in  respect  to  Re- 
ligion, and  only  summoned  to  state  what  his  reason,  instincts, 
and  sentiments  suggest  in  regard  to  the  great  problems  of 
Theology.  And  we  would  also  observe  how  far  his  answers 
correspond  with  those  which  we  have  previously  obtained 
from  Nature  and  those,  also,  which  we  get  from  the  Bible. 

Is  there  any  Spiritual  Being  higher  than  man?  To  this 
question  the  soul  supplies  a  twofold  answer, — one  suggested 
by  Reason,  one  forced  on  us  by  our  Instinct. 

{a)  Reason  suggests  that,  on  all  other  subjects  we  reason 
from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  and  from  the  seen  to  the 
unseen,  on  principles  of  analogy.  We  should,  therefore,  do 
so  here ;  and  what  is  the  result  ?  We  know  that  there  are 
spirits  as  numerous  as  there  are  living  men,  and  that  there 
have  been  spirits  in  times  past  as  numerous  as  the  whole  past 
population  of  the  globe.  We  know  that  as  they  advance  from 
infancy  to  childhood  the  body  becomes  less  and  less  essential. 
We  observe  some  individuals  so  frail,  so  intellectual,  and. 
spiritual  that  we  should  not  be  surprised  to  see  them  disap- 
pear ;  and  we  are  constrained  to  believe  that  the  souls  of  men 
can  exist  without  their  bodies.  What  is  the  reasonable  in- 
ference, then,  with  respect  to  higher  existences, — spirits  of  a 
higher  order? 

Again,  ascending  from  the  lowest  order  of  animals  to  man, 
we  see  a  gradual  increase  of  intelligence  as  contradistinguished 
from  instinct,  new  faculties  added,  old  ones  improved,  until 
we  pass  the  broad  gulf  that  separates  the  mind  of  man  from 


362 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


that  of  animals.  And  arc  wc  to  stop  there  ?  Can  we  ascend 
no  higher  ?  Below  and  on  our  own  level  all  is  life  and  ex- 
istence ;  above,  is  all  a  solitude  ?  To  this  point  there  is  an 
ascending  Hierarchy.     Does  that  Hierarchy  rise  no  higher? 

Or,  again,  we  pass  downward,  till  we  reach  the  line  that 
separates  the  visible  from  the  invisible.  Is  all  beyond  an 
empty  void  ?  The  microscope  answers.  Ascending,  take  the 
other  line  which  separates  the  visible  from  the  invisible.  Is 
all  across  that  line  a  dreary  void  ?  There  are  some  beings 
whom  we  cannot  see,  because  they  are  too  small.  May  there 
not  be  others  whom  we  cannot  see,  because  they  arc  too  sub- 
tile, too  ethereal  ? 

Once  more.  There  is  graduation  from  below  upward  to 
man.  Why  not  from  man  upward  through  Angel  and  Arch- 
angel, Cherubim  and  Seraphim,  Principality  and  Power,  till  we 
pass  from  the  fiiiitc  to  the  Infinite,  from  the  temporary  to  the 
Eternal,  from  the  Derived  and  Dependent  to  the  Underived 
and  Self-existetit  ? 

i?mj'(3;/,  then,  guided  hy  Analogy,  \sov\dii  infer  that  there  may 
and  must  be  Spirits  higher  than  man's,  and  that  presiding  over 
all  would  be  One  of  Boundless  Power  and  Knowledge.  Does 
it  suggest  anything  of  their  natures  ?     It  docs — 

1.  P>om  the  fact  that,  wherever  intelligence  and  affections 
are  found  among  men,  they  have  the  same  properties  and  are 
subject  to  the  same  laws,  we  infer  that  man's  nature  is  every- 
where the  same.  From  the  fact  that  so  far  as  animals  exhibit 
understanding  and  rational  emotions  and  affections,  we  can 
comprehend  them  and  communicate  with  them,  we  are  led 
to  the  fact  that  there  is  a  certain  likeness  and  analogy  between 
the  psychical  character  of  all  terrestrial  animals.  Would  not 
this  suggest  that  a  corresponding  likeness  pervades  all  intelli- 
gences? If  between  men  and  animals  there  can  be  much  in 
common,  how  much  more  between  men  and  superior  spirits ! 

2.  And  this  conjecture  is  greatly  strengthened  from  the 
nature  of  truth.     Certain  truths,  moral  and  mathematical,  arc 


THE   SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO  DIVINE  EXISTENCE. 


363 


necessary,  and  wherever  seen  must  command,  on  the  part  of 
the  mind  that  has  sufficient  capacity  to  apprehend  them,  the 
self-same  conviction  and  assent.  There  can  be  in  the  Universe 
no  other  Geometry  or  Arithmetic  than  our  own. 

And  so  of  many  contingent  truths,  such  as  those  of  As- 
tronomy and  Mechanical  Philosophy.  Hence  Angels  and 
God  must  have  intelligent  and  moral  natures,  in  some  essen- 
tial respects,  like  unto  our  own.  We  wonder  not,  therefore, 
as  we  open  the  Bible,  to  read  that  God  made  man  in  his  own 
image,  or  that  there  is  more  joy  among  the  angels  of  heaven 
over  one  sinner  that  repenteth  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just 
persons  which  need  no  repentance. 

{!))  The  answer  which  Instinct  gives  to  the  question  pro- 
posed is  felt  in  our  own  hearts ;  is  seen  in  the  conduct  of 
others ;  is  attested  in  the  practice  of  every  nation.  Its  voice 
is  clearest  and  most  commanding  when  great  emergencies 
press  upon  us — danger,  affliction,  helplessness.  When  we  find 
ourselves  heartsick  with  the  world's  emptiness  or  treachery, — 
then  who  does  not  pray  ?  who  does  not  crave  support  from 
something  higher  than  Nature  or  Man  ?  Where  have  not 
altars  risen,  priests  interceded,  victims  atoned,  and  the  gods 
been  feared  or  loved  ?  At  other  times,  reason  perverted  may 
darken  counsel ;  passion  may  make  us  wish  there  were  no 
God ;  the  world's  pomp  and  cares  may  cast  his  presence  and 
glory  into  dim  eclipse  ;  but  what  are  these  but  artificial  masks 
and  disguises,  that  conceal  the  natural  man?  Danger  and 
grief  thrust  them  aside  and  show  us  what  is  the  true  voice  of 
our  inmost  hearts. 

Is  this  voice  deceptive  ?  So  some  would  tell  us.  And  so 
some  teach  in  respect  to  that  voice  which  proclaims  that  there 
are  without  us  beings  to  be  loved,  duties  to  be  discharged, 
even  an  external  world  to  be  believed  in.  Philosophy,  too  in- 
genious, too  much  given  to  question  and  scrutinize,  has  some- 
times sought  to  persuade  herself  that  our  knowledge  can  never 
pass  without  the  sphere  of  consciousness ;  that  we  can  know 


3^4 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


nothing  except  the  Die — the  subjective — what  passes  ivitJiin. 
But  a  yet  wiser  philosophy  has  taught  us  that  the  subjective 
imphes  the  objective, — that  impressions  on  the  organ  necessitate 
the  beHef  in  a  cause  ab  extra, — that  emotions  within  of  love 
to  parents,  to  children,  prove  that  there  are  parents,  children ; 
and  so  likewise  that  tendencies  to  worship,  honor,  and  fear  God, 
in  forcing  upon  us  the  conviction  that  God  is,  demonstrate 
that  the  conviction  is  more  than  mere  illusion.  Otherwise  we 
could  never  have  a  jirst principle  in  moral  or  practical  questions, 
— no  starting-pointiox  reasoning  and  investigating, — no  axioms, 
— but  all  would  be  a  wide  waste  of  doubt  and  darkness.  Other- 
wise all  our  primary  and  irrepressible  beliefs  must  be  regarded 
as  so  many  vain  delusions  or  foul  impostures. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE   SOUL   A   WITNESS    TO    THE  DIVINE    UNITY,  PERSON- 
ALITY, AND   WISDOM. 

THE  first  question,  that  which  respects  the  Divine  Exist- 
ence, we  have  already  discussed ;  we  come  now  to  the 
second. 

Second.  What  is  the  Divine  Nature  f 

Observe  that  we  lay  aside,  for  the  present,  all  Divine 
Knowledge  derived  from  other  sources,  such  as  External 
Nature  and  Revelation,  and  supposing  ourselves  uninstructed 
in  anyway,  and  unbiased,  we  ask,  what  says  the  witness  of  the 
soul, — of  that  mind  which  may  be  taken  as  the  Representative 
of  our  Race  after  its  manifold  experiences  through  the  term 
of  six  thousand  years  ?  Having  obtained,  by  this  independent 
process,  a  clear  view  of  the  psychological  evidence,  we  may 
add  it  to  that  evidence  obtained  from  Physics  and  Physiology, 
remembering  that  the  value  of  the  whole  is  not  the  mere 
arithmetical  sum  of  the  separate  parts,  but  is  rather  a  certain 
power  of  that  sum,  each  separate  part  of  the  proof  deriving 
additional  strength  and  value  from  its  combination  with  the 
others. 

The  question,  what  is  the  Divine  Nature,  involves  five  dis- 
tinct problems : 

I.  Is  God  one  or  more?  II.  Is  He  Personal  or  Imper- 
sonal? III.  Is  He  Intelligent  or  Unintelligent  ?  IV.  Is  He 
Benevolent  or  Malignant?  V.  Is  He  Holy  or  Unholy?  Or,  in 
other  words,  what  is  the  testimony  of  the  soul  in  respect 
to  the  Divine  Unity,  Personality,  Wisdom,  Goodness,  and  Holi- 
ness ? 

(365) 


366 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


I.  The  Divine  Unity. — Is  God  one  or  many?  Is  ]\Iono- 
theism  or  Polytheism  the  system  taught  us  by  the  nature  and 
laws  of  the  mind  ?  When  men  have  undertaken  to  invent 
Religions,  Polytheism  has  often  been  the  result.  Was  it  from 
a  consideration  of  what  the  mind  teaches  ?  We  conceive  not. 
The  various  systems  of  Polytheism  may  be  traced,  we  appre- 
hend, to  the  neglect  of  all  proper  study  of  mind,  and  to  a  too 
exclusive  regard  to  the  poivcrs  of  external  Nature  and  the  aehieve- 
ments  of  illustrious  men.  When  from  such  partial  views  we  turn 
to  listen  to  the  voice  from  within,  that  which  comes  up  from 
the  depths  of  our  own  Being,  we  find  much  which,  if  duly 
considered,  will  force  on  us  the  impression  that  God  is  One. 

I.  We  learn  from  consciousness  that  we  have  existed  but 
a  short  time  (for  our  consciousness  tells  us  nothing  of  any 
existence  of  ours  before  we  were  born  into  this  world),  that 
we  cannot  by  any  power  of  ours  preserve  that  existence,  and 
cannot,  of  course,  have  originated  it.  We  are  not  the  authors 
of  our  own  being,  but  have  derived  it  from  some  other,  and 
so  we  ascend  back  till  we  get  to  a  self-existent  Cause,  who 
must  be  eternal,  because  underived ;  who,  as  the  author  and 
upholder  of  all  other  existence,  can  scarcely  be  less  than  Infi- 
nite in  Power  and  Immensity;  and  since  two  or  more  Infinites 
cannot  exist  together,  we  have  thus  One,  and  but  one.  Self- 
subsisting,  Eternal,  and  Almighty  Creator. 

Or,  in  another  form.  The  notion  of  time  limited  (which  all 
must  form  implicitly,  or  explicitly)  involves  the  notion  of  time 
unlimited;  so  of  space  limited,  power  or  cause  limited;  and 
thus  we  get  by  another  process  to  the  ideas  of  Infinite  Power, 
Duration,  Knowledge,  etc.,  which  we  conceive  of  only  as  at- 
tributes of  some  substance,  properties  inhering  in  some  sub- 
ject or  object. 

Thus  we  reach  a  conviction  of  the  Divine  Unity  through 
simple  and  necessary  processes  of  the  Reason,  independent 
of  anything  but  our  general  consciousness  and  our  most  ab- 
stract notions. 


THE   SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO  DIVINE    UNITY.  367 

2.  Again,  what  conclusion  would  result  from  observing 
psychological  facts?  The  same.  For  everywhere  through- 
out the  earth,  and  back  through  all  time,  we  find  men  char- 
acterized by  the  same  psychical  properties.  There  is  endless 
diversity  in  original  temperament,  and  that  diversity  is  still 
further  increased  by  education,  institutions,  and  physical  con- 
dition ;  but  beneath  it  all  there  are  the  same  essential  attri- 
butes, the  same  intellectual  powers,  the  same  desires  and  sus- 
ceptibilities, the  same  moral  sentiments.  Man  civilized  and 
uncivilized,  the  Esquimaux  amidst  perpetual  snows,  the  Afri- 
can on  equinoctial  sands, — all  have  ineffaceable  and  identical 
characteristics  of  a  common  nature.  But  if  all  men  of  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  are  thus  made  of  one  blood,  does  it  not 
prove  that  one  God  and  Father  is  the  Maker  of  them  all  ? 

But  if  we  look  beyond  men  to  animals,  we  see  reason  to  con- 
clude that  their  mental  qualities  and  susceptibilities,  whatever 
may  be  their  measure,  came  from  the  same  hand  with  those 
of  men ;  and  if  in  our  view  of  man  we  embrace  his  aniuial 
as  well  as  his  spiritual  nature,  we  see  there  an  epitome,  as  it 
were,  of  the  universe, — inccJianical  and  cJiemical  actions  taking 
place  in  his  body  essentially  the  same  as  those  which  are 
taking  place  in  the  inorganic  world  of  matter, — •zvV<^/ processes 
precisely  analogous  to  those  of  plants  and  animals;  while  in 
his  soul  are  spiritual  processes,  representing  in  kind,  though 
not  in  degree,  all  that  we  can  conceive  of  as  possible  in  the 
operations  of  mind.  Here,  then,  all  parts  of  creation  are 
summed  up  into  one,  as  if  to  show  that  there  is  a  bond  of 
unity  pervading  all  things,  and  proclaiming  that  One  Mind 
conceived  and  One  Almighty  hand  framed  them  all. 

II.  But,  again,  is  God  Personal  or  Impersonal  ?  On  ex- 
amining the  human  soul,  do  we  find  that  it  points  towards 
Theism  or  Pantheism  as  the  true  view  of  God  ?  We  offer 
no  injustice  to  the  latter  when  we  say  that  Pantheism  does 
not  spring  from  the  Instincts  of  the  human  heart,  and  can 
hardly  be  drawn  from  an  inductive  survey  of  the  facts  of  con- 


J 


58  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


sciousness.  Pantheistic  Philosophers  have  usually  distrusted 
all  the  instinctive  impulses  of  their  minds.  They  have  de- 
clined, or  but  sparingly  used,  the  psychological  and  inductive 
method  in  their  investigation.  They  have  preferred  Onto- 
logical  speculations, — have  started  from  the  notion  of  being 
in  the  abstract,  from  the  most  general  conceptions  of  the  Infi- 
nite and  Absolute,  and,  reasoning  from  these  with  as  little 
appeal  as  possible  to  consciousness  for  specific  mental  phe- 
nomena, with  as  little  use  as  might  be  of  what  they  have 
stigmatized  as  empirical — i.e.  of  inductive — reasoning,  they 
have  labored  to  construct  a  Universe  and  a  God  for  them- 
selves by  a  rigorous  process  of  demonstration : 

They  take  the  high  priori  road, 

And  reason  downwards  till  they  doubt  of  God ! 

doubt  of  his  personality,  and  of  all  such  views  of  Him  as  are 
calculated  deeply  and  benignly  to  impress  and  regulate  the 
heart  of  man. 

But  what  says  that  heart  itself,  interpreted  by  the  voice  of 
consciousness  ? 

I.  It  says,  I  am  conscious  of  my  own  individuality;  con- 
scious that  I  am  not  a  part,  but  a  whole ;  dependent,  yet  dis- 
tinct ;  an  integer,  not  a  fraction ;  having,  within  the  sphere  of 
my  own  proper  consciousness,  all  that  is  myself,  but  no  more. 
My  conciousness  tell.'^  me  nothing  of  my  being  a  part  of  the 
Universe,  or  a  part  of  God.  It  revolts  at  such  thoughts.  It 
tells  me  that  I  suffer,  whicfi  God,  as  Self-existent,  Eternal,  and 
Almighty,  cannot.  Hence  I  am  not  a  part  of  God,  nor  is 
any  other  man,  nor  is  Nature,  a  part  of  Him.  In  Him,  in- 
deed, all  things  exist  and  have  their  being.  But  does  He  exist 
and  have  his  Being  in  them  ?  These  are  not  independent  of 
their  Creator  and  Upholder ;  but  is  not  their  Creator  and  Up- 
holder independent  of  them  ?  He  is  pleased  to  send  forth, 
from  the  centre  of  his  own  Omnipotence,  a  train  of  worlds, 
and  a  Hierarchy  of  Creatures.   He  expresses  Himself  through 


THE  SOUL  A    WITNESS   TO  DIVINE    UNITY.  369 

them.  He  moves  and  actuates  them  at  will  more  easily  than 
we  can  move  any  member  of  our  bodies.  But  He  is  not  of 
them,  though  in  one  sense  in  them.  He  sits  behind  his  own 
creation,  and  might,  for  aught  we  can  know,  have  forever 
dwelt  in  the  solitude  of  his  own  existence  but  for  his  own 
good  pleasure. 

2.  Again,  the  heart  of  man  says,  I  am  conscious  of  my  own 
PERSONALITY.  I  know  that  I  am  a  person,  not  a  thing,  {a)  I 
can  know  myself;  can  make  my  own  thoughts  and  feelings 
the  subject  of  contemplation ;  can  give  them  objectivity,  to  bor- 
row the  language  of  Metaphysics.  I  have  self-consciousness,  I 
can  form  an  idea  of  the  nie,  of  myself,  as  distinguished  from 
the  not  me;  of  the  subjective,  as  opposed  to  the  objective,  and 
meditate  upon  my  own  character  and  prospects.  Can  animals 
do  so  ?  {b)  Again,  I  can  possess  myself  I  can  appropriate, 
use,  direct  at  will  my  own  powers ;  but  I  cannot  make  myself 
over,  nor  can  any  one  make  me  over,  as  a  chattel,  into  the 
possession  of  another.  Another  may  overpower  me,  he  may 
exact  service  from  me,  he  may  compel  me  to  work  for  his 
benefit,  not  my  own,  but  he  cannot  take  possession  of  my 
soul,  and  make  me  do  it  unresistingly,  thus  transferring  all 
my  volitions  to  himself.  Can  animals  possess  themselves? 
{c)  Again,  I  have  moral  freedom,  the  power  of  self-determina- 
tion, the  capacity  of  arbitrating  between  motives,  and,  instead 
of  yielding  passively  to  that  motive  which  is  adjudged  to  be 
the  strongest,  of  obeying  that  which  though  weakest  is  yet 
seen  to  be  most  rightful  and  authoritative.  But  does  not  such 
2i  personality  on  my  part  point  to  a  corresponding  personality 
in  my  Creator?  Can  the  thing  formed  be  nobler  and  spirit- 
ually greater  than  the  thing  that  formed  it  ? 

in.  Is  God  Intelligent  or  Unintelligent  ?  Is  He  a  forecasting, 
deliberatively  wise  Being,  or  is  He  not  to  be  distinguished 
from  the  blind,  adaptive  power  which  we  call  nature,  and 
whose  workings,  though  unerring,  are  instinctive,  not  ra- 
tional ?     It  has  been  alleged  that  when  we  reason  from  adap- 

24 


370 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


tations  in  Nature,  we  cannot  infer  intelligent  design,  but  only 
the  presence  of  a  power  working  blindly  and  unconsciously 
like  the  insect.  We  have  already  questioned  the  legitimacy 
of  this  position,  and  have  shown  how  we  are  obliged  to  in- 
terpret all  the  adjustments  in  Nature  through  the  medium  of 
our  own  consciousness  and  mental  experience,  and  how  easily 
we  can  distinguish  between  instinctive  and  intelligent  adapta- 
tions. But,  if  we  come  from  nature  to  our  own  souls,  we  have 
the  most  irresistible  evidence  of  Divine  Forecast  and  free 
choice  in — 

1.  Our  consciousness  o{ personality. 

2.  Our  consciousness  of  a  free,  deliberative  Intelligence  or 
Reason  in  ourselves. 

3.  In  the  admirable  and  numberless  adjustments  and  adapta- 
tions in  the  structure  and  mechanism  of  our  souls — e.g. 
their  faculties  as  compared  with  those  of  animals.  They  do 
not  differ  simply  by  superaddition,  as  would  be  the  case  in  a 
system  of  mere  progressive  development.  Some  things  are 
subtracted  (instincts),  others  added  (higher  reason),  and  the 
occasion  is  manifest.  Animals  are  made  to  be  stationary; 
both  individuals  and  Races  move,  from  age  to  age,  over  the 
same  horizontal  plane;  there  is  no  improvement  (except  the 
most  limited,  and  that  from  without,  and  through  man's 
agency)  either  in  the  individual  or  in  the  species.  But  men 
are  progressive ;  the  individual,  the  Race,  goes  upward,  and 
no  limits  can  be  fixed  to  its  ascending  advance.  An  inclined 
plane,  which  seems  without  a  farther  limit,  represents  its  capa- 
bilities. 

4.  Again,  compare  the  psychical  endowments  of  the  two 
sexes.  The  faculties  and  susceptibilities  are  the  same  in  kind, 
but  different  in  degree.  On  the  one  side,  more  robust  strength 
of  intellect;  on  the  other,  more  quickness  and  sprightliness. 
On  one  side,  powers  better  fitted  for  stern  and  violent  effort ; 
on  the  other,  for  patient  and  protracted  endurance.  On  one 
hand,  faculties  and  aspirations  that  belong  to  the  workday 


THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO   DIVINE    UNITY. 


371 


world  without;  on  the  other,  affections,  susceptibilities,  graces 
that  embellish  the  sanctuary  of  home.  One  has  faculties  that 
fit  him  to  govern ;  the  other,  to  make  obedience  a  grace  and 
a  pleasure.  Who  can  look  at  the  different  spheres  which 
must  be  filled,  without  seeing  that  there  must  have  been  fore- 
cast and  preadjustment?  Suppose  men  were  constituted  ex- 
actly like  women,  or  women  like  men,  how  vastly  would  the 
happiness  and  the  glory  of  life  be  abridged ! 

5.  Observe,  again,  the  different  elements  in  our  humanity: 
the  separate  faculties  and  functions  of  the  soul, — the  intel- 
lectual, the  sensitive,  the  aisthetical,  the  moral,  the  Regal  Wt/l, 
an  absobitc  Prince. 

Observe  {a)  how  each  is  adapted  to  its  end, — intellect  to  get 
knowledge,  mental  power,  etc. 

{Ji)  How  each  is  adapted  to  all  the  others,  and  all  the  others 
to  each ;  how  intellect  helps  the  passions,  the  taste,  tlie  imagi- 
nation, the  conscience,  and  the  will ;  how  the  passions  help 
the  intellect,  how  they  discipline  the  conscience  by  opposition, 
or  help  it  by  co-operation. 

{c)  How  each  and  all  are  essential  to  the  healthy  and  be- 
neficent working  of  the  mind  and  of  society.  Take  away 
intellect  and  leave  the  rest,  or  the  passions  and  leave  the 
rest,  or  the  conscience  and  leave  the  rest,  or  thezc^z'/Zand  leave 
the  rest — of  the  result  we  can  judge  by  what  we  see  when 
an  individual  is  greatly  deficient  in  any  of  these  powers  or 
susceptibilities,  through  congenital  causes,  through  insanity,  or 
through  misconduct.     He  is  a  monster,  a  buffoon,  or  a  drone. 

id)  How  the  soul,  considered  as  an  instrument  and  as  a 
whole,  has  manifold  adaptations,  will  serve  one  purpose  as  if 
it  had  been  framed  only  with  reference  to  it,  and  yet  serve 
others  as  if  that  had  never  been  thought  of  An  instrument 
of  human  fabrication  commands  our  admiration  in  proportion 
as  it  can  subserve  different  uses,  especially  if  it  be  at  all  com- 
plex in  its  mechanism.  Hence  the  steam-engine  is  deemed 
a  proud  monument  of  human  ingenuity. 


2 '7  2  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Now,  what  are  some  of  the  uses  of  the  human  soul  ?  To 
instance  one :  It  is  to  give  man  dominion  over  all  things  ter- 
restrial. To  that  he  seems  destined, — it  is  best  that  he  should 
have  it, — and  he  gets  it  in  proportion  as  he  applies  mind,  and 
cultivated  mind,  instead  of  brute  force.  Why  have  a  few 
white  men,  in  two  hundred  years,  felled  the  great  forests  on 
this  continent,  driven  out  the  ravenous  beasts  of  prey,  dis- 
possessed the  savages,  reared  cities  and  villages  unnumbered, 
and  spread  cultivated  fields  where  all  was  a  howling  waste  ? 
The  answer  is,  they  have  used  mind  in  the  appointed  way — 
i.e.:  I,  thoughtfully;  2,  with  associated  effort;  and  3,  they 
have  enforced  such  effort  with  all  the  assistance  that  can  be 
derived  from  past  ages  and  different  parts  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO    THE  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE. 

WAIVING  further  proofs  and  illustrations  in  respect  to 
the  Wisdom  of  God,  we  propose  now  to  answer  the 
fourth  of  the  five  questions  already  propounded  in  respect  to 
the  Divine  Nature.     Is  God  benevolent? 

When  men  frame  to  themselves  a  Religion,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  fear  and  hatred,  we  can  well  understand  why  it  should 
represent  God  as  a  stern,  ungracious,  and  even  vindictive 
Being.  So  when  they  come  to  the  consideration  of  it,  under 
a  deep  sense  of  their  own  personal  guilt  and  ill  desert,  this 
feeling,  coupled  with  a  corresponding  idea  of  Retributive  jus- 
tice, and  with  no  perception  of  a  way  of  pardon,  can  hardly 
construct  to  itself  the  notion  of  a  placable  and  benignant 
Father.  And  even  philosophical  minds,  if  they  occupy  them- 
selves with  considering  only  the  prevalence  of  natural  and 
moral  evil  in  the  world,  excluding  all  contemplation  of  the 
abounding  provisions  for  physical  and  mental  enjoyment,  may 
easily  reach  the  conclusion  that  the  author  of  such  a  system, 
as  they  seem  to  see,  must  breathe  war  and  hatred  rather  than 
Peace  and  Good  Will  towards  men.  But  we  are  to  ask  what 
conclusions  would  be  reached  by  a  candid  and  unbiased  mind, 
surveying  the  subject  in  the  light  of  man's  whole  mental  con- 
stitution and  condition. 

And  here  we  observe  that,  in  order  to  appreciate  the  full 
force  of  this  evidence,  we  should  distinguish  between  mind  as 
we  often  find  it,  perverted,  undeveloped,  or  debased,  and  mind 
as  it  came  from  the  Creator.  To  ascertain  the  character  of 
him  who  frames  any  system  or  instrument,  we  must  take  it 

(373) 


374 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


in  its  original  or  natural  state.  By  this,  in  respect  to  man,  we 
do  not  mean  the  barbarous  and  uncivihzed  state ;  for  that 
corresponds  less  with  the  true  nature  of  the  mind  than  a  state 
the  most  civiHzed.  We  mean,  rather,  that  state  to  which  the 
structure  and  economy  of  the  soul  evidently  point  as  its 
7iornial  or  healthy  or  perfect  state. 

Important  as  this  distinction  is,  however,  we  shall  often 
waive  it,  and  take  Human  Nature  as  it  presents  itself  in  the 
average  course  of  life,  and  of  the  world. 

I.  Instead  of  taking  the  human  soul  in  the  gross,  as  an  integer, 
we  shall  confine  our  remarks  in  this  chapter  to  one  class  of  its 
functions,  the  emotional,  and  to  a  limited  and  partial  view  even 
of  them.  We  select  the  self-re  gar  ding  and  the  relative  afifec 
tions  and  emotions,  those  which  are  usually  but  improperly 
called  the  selfish  and  the  social — the  one  set  urging  us  to- 
wards what  appears  to  be  for  the  happiness  of  ourselves ;  the 
other,  urging  us  towards  what  appears  to  be  for  the  happiness 
of  others.  We  exclude  the  term  selfish,  because  none  of  these 
susceptibilities  is  naturally  reflective  in  its  character,  but  they 
all  act  instinctively,  and  therefore  without  any  clear  discrimina- 
tion between  ourselves  and  others.  To  the  self-regarding  princi- 
ples belong  the  animal  appetites,  the  desire  for  power,  for  ap- 
probation, etc.  To  the  relative,  belong  love  of  children,  love 
of  parents,  love  of  friends,  pity  for  the  distressed,  etc.  We 
ask  attention  to  three  notable  facts  connected  with  this  part  of 
our  mental  constitution  r—yfrj-/,  its  twofold  character, — there 
are  two  antagonistic  tendencies;  second,  the  tzvofold  dicWon  of 
each  tendency ;  and  third,  their  variable  force  and  character. 

First.  The  twofold  constitution  of  our  nature  in  this  respect. 
We  have  not  only  principles  urging  us  to  care  for  our  own 
happiness, — for  in  that  case  we  might  sacrifice  the  happiness 
of  others, —  nor  only  principles  urging  us  to  do  good  to 
others, — for  in  that  case  we  might  do  great  or  fatal  harm  to 
ourselves.  By  making  us,  through  the  self-regarding  affec- 
tions, vigilant  guardians  of  our  own  enjoyments,  and  through 


THE  SOUL  A    WITNESS  TO  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE.     37 e 

our  benevolent  instincts  guardians  also  of  the  enjoyment  of 
those  around  us,  and  especially  of  those  most  nearly  con- 
nected with  and  dependent  upon  us.  God  has  provided  for 
the  maxiimmt  of  enjoyment  and  improvement  to  mankind,  so 
far  as  it  depends  on  their  own  voluntary  agency.  And  Christ 
exhibits  his  profound  knowledge  of  human  nature  when, 
shunning  the  two  prevalent  ethical  systems  of  his  time,  the 
Epicurean  and  the  Stoical,  He  struck  the  golden  mean,  and 
announced  as  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  Second  Table  of 
the  Divine  Law, — Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 
In  these  words  He  sanctions  a  like  vigilant  regard  for  our  own 
happiness  and  for  that  of  others. 

But  it  has  been  said,  why  not  regard  the  social  or  benevo- 
lent affections  as  derived  principles,  as  built  up  out  of  the 
selfish  principles,  through  education  and  a  calculation  of  con- 
sequences ?     We  answer, — 

1.  Because,  in  inferior  animals,  they  are  evidently  original 
and  instinctive,  and  if  so  in  them,  why  not  in  human  kind  ?  for 
the  parental  instinct  (to  take  an  example)  seems  to  be  as 
necessary  in  the  one  as  in  the  other. 

2.  Because  an  affection  built'on  mere  calculation  would  be 
unequal  to  the  sudden  and  almost  superhuman  efforts  and 
sacrifices  to  which  we  are  called.  A  parent,  for  instance,  if 
he  were  to  reason  on  mere  consequences  to  himself,  might 
well  doubt  whether  such  efforts  as  he  readily  and  cheerfully 
makes  in  behalf  of  children,  were  incumbent  on  him,  for  they 
go  sometimes  to  the  length  of  almost  entire  self-sacrifice  for 
the  good  of  the  beloved  object,  and  all,  on  the  selfish  theory, 
for  what?  A  most  doubtful  result.  The  child  may  live  only 
to  be  an  idiot  or  a  monster  of  deformity.  He  may  be  profli- 
gate and  godless,  and  bring  the  gray  hairs  of  his  father  and 
mother  in  sorrow  and  shame  to  the  grave.  The  outlay  of 
trouble  is  certain,  the  return  most  uncertain. 

3.  Because  these  benevolent  affections  possess  and  master 
those  to  whom  they  can  bring  no  ultimate  gain.     Is  a  child 


17^ 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


loved,  watched  over,  cherished,  only  by  its  mother  ?  Those 
who  can  get  nothing,  who  have  nothing  from  it  or  through 
it,  are  they,  therefore,  indifferent  to  its  welfare  ?  Look  at  the 
chamber  in  which  it  makes  its  entry  on  life !  It  is  there  the 
only  mourner, — all  eyes  beam  with  hope,  all  hearts  swell 
with  joy  and  thanksgiving  that  a  child  is  born  into  the  world. 
If  they  rcficcted,  they  might  pause,  doubtful  whether  moral 
existence,  with  all  its  tremendous  hazards  and  responsibilities, 
be  indeed  a  blessing  to  the  agent  himself,  or  to  those  charged 
with  the  momentous  trust  of  rearing  him  from  weakness  to 
manhood.  But  tluy  do  not  reflect.  They  are  possessed  by 
that  which  outruns  reflection,  and  compels  them,  in  spite  of 
themselves,  to  be  the  helpless  stranger's  friend  and  protector. 
It  is  armed  with  a  power  which  far  surpasses  that  of  the  most 
absolute  Prince, — the  power,  the  irresistible  might  of  zveak- 
ness  and  want.  All  hearts  bow.*  The  rugged  features  of 
passion  or  vice  relax.  The  brute  of  a  father  who,  in  his 
drunken  fury,  can  strike  a  wife  or  mother,  can  he  strike 
yonder  sleeping  innocent  ?  The  harp  of  Orpheus  did  not 
work  such  wonders  in  transforming  savage  beasts  as  are 
wrought  by  this  unconscious  little  one.  How  all  wants  are 
anticipated,  all  dangers  warded  off,  though  at  the  expense  of 
long  nights  of  watching  and  long  days  of  toilsome  ministry! 
How  the  first  smile  is  waited  for,  and  what  joy  sheds  its  sun- 
shine over  the  hearts  of  mother,  sister,  nurse,  when  that  signal 


*  A  beautiful  and  touching  evidence  of  the  power  of  weakness  and  innocence 
over  the  most  rugged  heart  is  mentioned  by  one  of  the  British  admirals  who,  a 
few  years  since,  visited  the  small  and  defenceless  community  that  has  sprung  up 
in  Pitcairn's  Island,  in  the  Pacific,  descendants  of  the  few  mutineers  of  the  ship 
Bounty,  who  settled  there  : 

"  The  islanders  depended  principally  for  their  necessary  supplies  on  the  whal- 
ing-ships,— they  are  generally  American.  Greatly  to  their  credit,  they  behave 
in  the  most  exemplary  manner,  very  different  from  what  I  expected.  One  rough 
seaman,  whom  I  spoke  to  in  praise  of  such  conduct,  said,  '  Sir,  I  expect  if  one 
of  our  fellows  was  to  misbehave  himself  here  we  should  not  leave  him  alive.' 
These  people  are  guileless  and  unsophisticated  beyond  conception." 


THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO  DIVINE   BENEVOLENCE.     377 

of  an  awakening  soul,  that  first  dawning  of  an  endless  intel- 
lectual day,  bursts  upon  the  view !  Yes,  a  soul,  rational, 
spiritual,  immortal,  has  been  put  in  charge,  perhaps,  of  hire- 
lings,— perhaps  of  a  foster-mother,  who  has  this  hope  of  some 
family  for  hours  and  days  together  by  herself, — and  yet  the 
parents,  the  friends,  rest  securely,  for  they  know  that  the 
common  Father  of  all  has  taken  care  that  that  duty  shall  not 
be  neglected.  He  has  lodged  in  that  nurse's  heart  a  better 
guarantee  than  the  hope  of  wages,  or  the  fear  of  detection  and 
disgrace;  even  an  awakening  love  and  compassion  for  her 
charge,  that  make  him  to  her, — a  what? — merely  a  young 
animal,  like  a  kitten,  a  lamb  ?  Is  that  all  the  tenderness  she 
feels  for  this  child,  or  is  there  not  a  mysterious,  undeveloped 
consciousness  that  that  animal  form  is  but  the  casket  of  a 
priceless  jewel,  even  the  soul,  and  that  she  must  be  propor- 
tionably  vigilant  and  careful  ? 

There  are,  then,  bene%>olcnt  as  well  as  self-regarding  in- 
stincts* in  man,  and  in  both  does  the  Maker  of  man  show 
forth  his  Benignity :  in  the  one,  by  making  us  provident  of  the 
enjoyment  of  those  with  whom  we  are  in  any  social  relation ; 
in  the  other,  by  making  us  not  less  considerate  of  our  own. 

But,  some  one  may  say,  are  there  not  malevolent  principles 
or  instincts  in  Human  Nature,  instincts  that  inspire  us  with 
ill  will  towards  others,  and  prompt  us  to  make  them  the 
victims  of  our  cruelty?  Is  there  not  anger?  Is  there  not 
revenge  ?  Are  there  not  envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  all  unchari- 
tableness  ?  We  answer  that  most  of  these  are  not  original 
sentiments;  they  are  not  instinctive  principles  of  Human 
Nature.  Envy  is  the  flagrant  exaggeration  of  a  legitimate 
and  beneficent  principle,  that  oi  Emulation,  just  as  Hatred  and 
Revenge  are  abuses  of  Anger  and  Resentment.  To  take  the 
two  last  as  a  specimen,  when  they  are  designated  as  malcvo- 


*  The  one  we  have  noticed  is  but  an  example  of  all  that  class  that  have  the 
immediate  good  of  others  for  their  end  and  aim. 


3/8 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


lent,  the  common  mistake  is  committed  of  confounding  the 
legitimate  2ise  with  the  perhaps  more  prevalent  abuse  of  a 
principle.  Neither  Anger  nor  Resentment  is  necessarily  or 
properly  vindictive.  They  are  punitive  or  prevetitive.  They 
imply  displeasure  at  a  deed;  but  that  displeasure,  though 
ever  so  strong,  may  be  compatible  with  kindness  and  good 
will  towards  him  who  did  the  deed.  A  child  grossly  misbe- 
haves, the  parent  is  offended  and  chastises  it;  does  it  follow 
that  he  wishes  ill  to  the  child;  that  he  inflicts  the  suffering 
with  pleasure ;  that  he  gloats  delighted  over  the  spectacle  of 
his  writhing  body,  his  mortified  and  terrified  spirit?  Far  from 
it ;  he  often  strikes  the  blow  or  imposes  the  restraint  with  the 
deepest  reluctance,  and  only  because  he  feels  that  the  blind 
impulse  of  his  affections  must  give  way  before  the  claims  of 
justice,  and  before  high  considerations  for  his  child's  perma- 
nent welfare. 

And  here  we  see  the  proper  office  of  Anger  and  Resent- 
ment in  the  social  system.  They  are  defensive  principles. 
The  active  desires  and  appetites  urge  us  to  get  enjoyment, — 
the  defensive,  to  protect  that  enjoyment  against  the  encroach- 
ments of  others,  or  to  recover  it  when  wrested  away.  Anger 
stands  as  an  advance-guard,  to  anticipate  and  prevent  an 
attack.  The  fear  of  rousing  it  often  holds  men  back  from 
wrong  and  outrage,  which  they  might  otherwise  commit  in 
spite  of  the  protests  of  their  benevolent  or  moral  feelings. 
Resentment,  less  sudden  but  more  deliberative,  survives  to 
keep  alive  a  sense  of  the  injury  we  have  received,  till  we  ob- 
tain by  rightful  means  the  redress  due  not  more  to  us  than  to 
the  great  interests  of  society.  The  same  feeling  prompts  us 
to  come  in  aid  of  the  weak  when  oppressed,  and  helps  to  rec- 
oncile us  to  that  infliction  of  suffering  which  all  punishment 
implies,  but  which  we  should  often  recoil  from,  with  deep  and 
invincible  repugnance,  if  left  to  the  guidance  of  nothing  but 
our  sympathies  and  social  affections. 

That  these   principles   are  peculiarly  liable  to  abuse  we 


THE  SOUL  A    WITNESS  TO  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE.     3-rQ 

readily  admit,  and  that  abuse  is  most  prevalent  we  admit  also; 
but  for  this  the  responsibility  rests  not  on  man's  Maker,  but 
on  himself. 

Second.  The  next  fact  to  which  we  would  ask  attention  is 
that  each  of  these  affections  has  a  twofold  office, — the  selfish 
operating  not  only  directly  to  the  advantage  of  the  agent,  but 
also  indirectly  to  the  benefit  of  others,  {a)  Take,  for  example, 
the  love  of  approbation.  It  leads  a  man,  through  industry, 
through  science,  through  professional  labor,  to  reputation. 
But  what  kind  of  efforts  must  he  apply?  Precisely  those, 
in  a  large  proportion  of  cases,  which  most  benefit  others, 
society,  the  world.  He  must  be,  or  at  least  he  must  appear 
to  be  (and,  so  far  as  our  argument  is  concerned,  it  is  the  same 
thing),  honest,  temperate,  prudent.  If  he  be  a  student,  he 
must  discover  or  illustrate  valuable  truths.  In  every  walk  of 
life  he  must  be  kind,  must  take  care  of  his  family,  must  have 
some  public  spirit.  What  would  we  think  of  a  man  who 
undertook  to  win  approbation  by  being  openly  and  avowedly 
licentious,  unjust,  oppressive,  cruel,  ignorant,  useless?  True,  im- 
postors often  get  honor,  but  it  is  only  through  hypocrisy, — 
"the  homage  which  vice  pays  to  virtue," — or  because  the 
splendor  of  their  achievements,  the  talent  which  they  imply, 
or  the  magnificent  results  which  they  secure,  blind  us  for  the 
moment  to  the  true  character  of  the  actor. 

{b)  On  the  other  hand,  take  a  benevolent  affection,  such  as 
pity  for  the  wretched.  Here  is  a  man  who  is  impelled  (we  will 
admit,  for  the  sake  of  argument)  alojte  by  this  one  sentiment, 
— not,  what  shall  I  eat,  or  what  shall  I  drink,  but  to  how  many 
of  the  sons  or  daughters  of  sorrow  can  I  serve  as  eyes  for 
the  blind  and  feet  for  the  lame, — from  how  many  cheeks  can 
I  wipe  away  tears, — how  many  hearts  can  I  cause  to  sing 
aloud  for  joy?  Is  such  a  one  a  minister  of  good  only  to 
others  ?  Does  he  get  none  to  himself?  Is  there  not  such  a 
luxury  as  the  luxury  of  pitying  and  relieving  ?  Compare  it 
with  the  luxury  of  doing  evil,  inflicting  suffering,  if  such  a 


380 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


luxury  there  be.  Which  spreads  most  sunshine  over  the 
heart,  warms  and  cheers  it  most,  loving  or  hating?  We 
have  heard  of  hating  cordially ;  but  we  much  doubt  if  it  be  a 
cordial  to  the  heart  which  hates.  The  world,  judging  alike 
through  observation  and  consciousness,  has  told  us  what  this 
viper  does  to  the  bosom  where  it  is  cherished.  Rankles, 
festers, — these  are  the  words  that  describe  alike  truly  and 
forcibly  its  reflex  influence  upon  the  minds  that  harbor  it. 

Again,  does  he  get  no  happiness  from  the  gratitude — too 
deep,  perhaps,  for  words,  too  deep,  it  may  be,  for  tears — of 
those  he  succors  ? 

Again,  does  it  win  him  no  friends, — not  among  the  objects 
of  his  beneficence  only,  but  among  all  who  are  spectators  of 
it  ? — none  who  are  impatient  to  serve  him  ? — none  who,  in 
the  day  of  his  adversity,  will  work  for  him  and  plead  for  him  ? 
Let  politicians  and  demagogues  beware  of  him  whose  heart 
beats  warmly  and  strongly  with  love  to  his  kind,  and,  above 
all,  with  pity  for  the  suffering.  Without  knowing  it,  he  has 
adopted  a  line  of  policy,  a  system  of  tactics,  more  compre- 
hensive and  more  potent  than  theirs ;  and  unless  they  are  on 
the  alert,  unless  they  affect  to  be  as  he  is,  and  even  more,  he 
may  chance  to  be  preferred  before  them.  Certain  it  is  that 
the  people,  if  left  to  themselves,  would  be  violently  inclined 
to  take  him  by  force  and  make  him  a  king,  and  they  would 
be  slow  of  their  own  mere  motion  to  make  any  one  a  king 
who  did  not  .wear  something  of  his  likeness.  Think  of  men 
honoring  and  cherishing  a  bold,  bad  man,  who  glories  in  his 
wickedness,  who  exults  in  being  selfish,  unprincipled,  profligate, 
sensual/ 

[c)  But,  again,  there  are  principles  of  a  mixed  character,  partly 
self-seeking,  partly  self-imparting.  Of  this  nature,  as  we  con- 
ceive it,  is  the  desire  of  gain.  We  cannot  agree  with  most 
writers  on  Political  Economy,  in  regarding  this  as  a  mere  desire 
to  get  something  for  ourselves, — an  assumption  which  rests 
at  the  bottom  of  their  theories,  and  has  contributed  not  a  little 


THE   SOUL  A    WITNESS  TO  DIVINE  BENEVOLENCE. 


381 


to  impart  a  harsh  and  narrow  character  to  many  of  their  con- 
clusions. When  a  man  labors  for  gain,  does  he  think  only 
of  himself? — nothing  of  his  family,  to  be  supported  or  edu- 
cated or  established? — nothing  of  his  friends,  to  be  entertained? 
— nothing  of  giving  to  him  that  lacketh?. — nothing  of  being 
useful  in  his  day?  Men  have,  doubtless,  very  different  motives  ; 
with  some  the  motives  are  very  sordid;  yet  we  take,  as  it  seems 
to  us,  a  most  partial  view  of  human  nature  if  we  do  not  recog- 
nize the  existence  generally  of  some  of  the  elements  which 
we  have  mentioned  in  addition  to  that  which  is  purely  selfish 
or  self-regarding. 

As  a  mixed  principle,  look  at  this  desire  of  gain, — first  on 
its  rational  and  secondly  on  its  instinctive  side.  On  the  first  it 
urges  towards  an  increase  of  the  possessions  of  one ;  on  the 
second,  towards  a  course,  in  order  to  this  end,  which  must 
conduce  to  increase  the  possessions  and  the  comforts  of 
others.  A  gainful  calling,  if  it  be  an  honest  one,  does  not 
enrich  A  by  impoverishing  B  and  C.  It  does  not  merely 
transfer  from  one  pocket  to  another.  While  it  brings  profits 
to  the  capitalist,  it  distributes  wages  among  all  the  laborers 
and  agents.  While  the  laborer,  by  his  industry,  puts  money 
into  his  own  purse,  he  helps  also  to  put  money  into  the 
purses  of  all  who  co-operate  with  him,  whether  as  artisans  or 
proprietors ;  for  value  once  created  can  hardly  serve  one 
person  without  serving  others ;  so  that  while  the  agent  may 
think  only  of  gain  to  himself,  he  is  made  an  unconscious,  but 
effectual,  instrument  of  blessing  to  others. 

Take  the  supply  of  food  for  a  great  city.  What  a  problem, 
if  it  were  worked  out  by  human  wisdom  !  How  easy  when 
solved  by  Divine  foresight  through  the  same  instinctive  love 
of  gain ! 

Third.  Consider  how  these  principles  vary  in  their  force 
and  form  with  emergencies.  E.g.  The  parental  instinct  is 
dormant,  perhaps,  or  more,  in  a  poor  or  fashionable  family. 
But  a  child  is  born.     Is  it  neglected? 


382 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


One  child  of  many  is  sick  or  lost.  Do  not  all  thoughts  and 
affections  cluster  about  it?  They  leave  the  ninety  2L\\dL  nine 
and  go  after  that  which  is  ill  or  astray. 

The  child  grows  older, — needs  different  treatment;  the 
instinct  varies,  until,  at  length,  he  is  a  man.  The  father  no 
longer  supports,  but  is  supported ;  the  instinct  is  not  dead,  as 
it  would  be  in  animals,  for  it  is  needed — needed  for  the  child, 
needed  for  the  parents. 

By-and-by  it  takes  a  new  form.  Grandchildren  are  born, 
perhaps  in  the  same  house.  How  instinctively  does  the  sen- 
timent adapt  itself,  and  what  a  blessing! — To  the  old,  {a)  to 
enliven  and  cheer,  {b)  to  enable  them  to  live  over  their  own 
childhood — the  pleasures  of  memory  and  the  pleasures  of 
hope,  {c)  to  keep  a  warm  place  and  warm  hearts  for  them 
when  otherwise  their  welcome  might  wear  out.  Old,  queru- 
lous, feeble,  a  burden,  perhaps,  in  one  sense, — they  present 
their  appeal:  i,  as  benefactors  once;  2,  as  dependents  now; 
3,  as  friends  and  companions  to  the  little  ones. 

To  the  children.  What  friends  so  salutary  as  the  old,  with 
their  experience,  their  chastened  views  of  life,  their  large 
fund  of  anecdote, — a  little  wandering  and  prolix,  but  just  the 
thing  for  a  child, — their  calmness  of  spirit,  now  that  the  toils 
of  life  are  over,  their  returning  faith  in  God ! 

Suppose  men  were  born  in  full  maturity,  and  died  so ;  no 
childhood,  no  old  age,  no  youth,  but  all  manhood ! 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS    TO    THE    BENEVOLENCE    OF  GOD. 

WE  offer  a  few  additional  illustrations  of  Divine  Benevo- 
lence derived  from  the  constitution  of  the  human 
mind,  premising  that  in  illustrating  the  Benevolence  of  God  we 
illustrate  also,  as  I  have  said,  his  Wisdom  and  his  Power, 
since  we  do  not  adduce  laws  and  adaptations  that  are  merely- 
tentative,  but  those  that  have  been,  as  our  own  consciousness 
and  experience  proclaim,  most  triumphantly  achieved.  In 
contemplating  them  we  behold  at  once  the  Goodness  that 
conceived,  the  Wisdom  that  arranged,  and  the  Power  that 
executed. 

We  appeal  especially  to  phenomena  presented  by  our 
nature  in  its  ordinary  state,  and  when  directed  by  the  com- 
bined action  of  its  native  instincts  and  capabilities  on  the  one 
hand  and  of  surrounding  circumstances  on  the  other.  To 
resume : 

3.  Consider  the  variable  character  of  all  our  powers  and  sus- 
ceptibilities through  which  their  intensity  proportions  itself  to 
the  emergencies  of  the  agent.  In  the  language  of  mathe- 
matics, these  principles  are  not  constants,  but  variables.  We 
have  already  seen  that  this  is  the  case  with  the  parental  in- 
stinct, and  have  noticed  some  of  the  results  of  a  law  which 
thus  secures  that  one  most  powerful  element  of  our  active 
nature  should  lie  dormant,  or  be  aroused  to  irrepressible 
energy,  or  otherwise  modify  its  action,  according  to  the  de- 
mands upon  it.  Were  such  a  power  to  have  full  play  when 
there  was  no  occasion  for  it,  it  would  be  a  torment;  and  so 
if  it  were  to  direct  the  same  sort  of  treatment  or  affection 
towards  a  son  or  daughter  of  mature  age  as  towards  the 


384 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


infant  in  the  cradle.  Such  modifications,  observe,  are  not  the 
result  merely  of  deliberative  effort  on  the  part  of  the  parent, 
but  are  in  a  great  measure  instinctive. 

Now,  observe  how  the  same  law  holds  in  respect  to  our 
other  powers.  Take,  for  instance,  Desire,  and  mark  how  it 
varies  with  the  obstacles  which  arise  in  the  way  of  its  reaching 
its  object.  A  child  preferring  a  request  to  a  parent,  may  be 
met  with  a  feeble  objection,  with  a  hesitating  refusal,  or  with 
a  peremptory  negative, — the  last  known,  by  the  child's  expe- 
rience, to  be  unalterable.  In  the  first  two  cases,  a  desire, 
faint  at  first,  is  excited  and  exasperated ;  in  the  last,  it  is  forth- 
with, and  almost  entirely,  extinguished.  Or,  to  take  another 
instance,  David  prays,  and  fasts,  and  mourns  while  the  child 
lies  sick,  but  arises,  washes  his  face,  and  calls  for  meat  when 
the  child  is  dead, — a  touch  of  the  sacred  historian,  which 
shows  how  far  the  truth  of  the  Bible  transcends  the  compass 
of  ordinary  invention.  A  writer  of  fiction  would  have  been 
likely  to  think,  with  the  servants  of  David,  that  his  appro- 
priate course,  when  the  child  died,  the  course  which  his 
former  conduct  would  seem  to  dictate,  would  be  to  refuse  all 
comfort  and  renounce  all  food.  But  the  deep  desire  of  the 
king's  heart,  that  the  child  should  live,  was  now  paralyzed, 
because  gratification  had  become  impossible.  Nature,  in  her 
truth  and  simplicity,  taught  him  to  act  a  part  which  no  tame 
composer  of  a  fictitious  history  would  be  likely  to  conceive, 
and  hence  in  this,  as  in  many  other  instances,  we  see  intrinsic 
evidence  that  the  sacred  narrative  is  true. 

Here,  then,  is  a  great  principle :  slight  iinpediments  inflame 
desire ;  insurmoimtable  impediments  repress  and  all  but  extin- 
guish it.  And  is  not  the  final  cause  obvious  and  most  benig- 
nant ?  Man  was  made  to  attain  to  inward  excellence,  to  out- 
ward good,  and  to  satisfymg  happiness  through  effort;  and 
the  greater  the  effort,  within  due  limitations  as  to  the  object 
and  the  degree,  the  greater  the  blessings  compassed.  Did 
slight  impediments  extinguish  desire,  hardly  any  efforts  would 


THE   SOUL  A    WITNESS    TO    GOD'S  BENEVOLENCE. 


385 


be  made.  Did  insurmountable  efforts  inflame  it,  the  mightiest 
efforts  would  be  expended  on  the  most  unattainable  object-s. 
But  by  the  law,  as  it  now  stands,  both  evils  are  avoided,  and 
the  highest  benefits  secured.  Desire  rising  with  the  effort 
required,  such  effort  is  thereby  made  more  easy,  and  almost 
superhuman  strength  is  put  forth,  not  only  without  pain,  but 
often  with  the  most  exquisite  pleasure.  Let  this  law  teach  us 
that  "  difficulties  are,  indeed,  our  helpers."*  Let  it  teach  us 
how  greatly  we  err  when  in  training  the  young  or  serving 
those  we  love  we  strive  to  withdraw  all  obstacles  from  their 
onward  way,  thus  condemning  their  desires  to  languish,  their 
active  powers  to  stagnate,  and  their  hearts  to  pine  and  sicken 
for  appropriate  stimulus. 

This  variable  character  of  our  emotions — a  variableness 
through  which  they  carefully  adjust  themselves  to  our  wants — 
may  be  seen,  again,  in  Fear.  At  the  beginning,  fear  is  an 
alarm-gun.  It  acts  upon  us  with  explosive  force,  and  the  first 
impulse  we  feel  is  \.o  fiy.  But  the  thought  arises,  that  the  dan- 
ger we  thus  shun  may  be  less  than  that  into  which  we  shall 
rush,  if  we  become  fugitives, — danger,  perchance,  to  our  per- 
sons, perchance  to  our  reputation  or  our  virtue,  perchance  to 
the  lives  or  well-being  of  those  we  fondly  love.  Hence  fear 
is,  in  a  measure,  repressed.  From  flying,  it  puts  us  upon 
averting  the  impending  evil.  Reason  suggests  and  weighs 
means.  Some  of  them  are  adopted.  And  then  the  will 
hastens,  under  the  influence  of  fear  and  hope,  to  apply  them. 
How  soon  are  the  thoughts  and  designs  of  the  mind  en- 
grossed in  the  use  of  these  means  !  Fear,  as  a  principle  of 
terror,  paralyzing  or  urging  only  to  flight,  disappears,  and  we 
come  by  degrees  almost  to  relish,  sometimes  even  to  exult  in, 
the  danger  which  was  at  first  so  appalling.  But,  look  again  : 
the  die  is  cast,  the  battle  is  lost,  the  ship  sinks,  the  doom  of 
bankruptcy  is  sealed,  and  then,  fear  resuming  its  earlier  char- 

*  Burke. 

25 


386 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


acter,  our  main  impulse  is  not  to  master,  but  to  avoid,  the  dan- 
ger. Or  there  may  be  cases  in  which  the  helplessness  of  terror 
may  be  for  us  the  best  and  safest  state  of  mind,  and  then  how 
quickly  does  it  manifest  itself!  For  instance,  a  hunter  in  the 
grasp  of  a  tiger  is  safer  making  no  resistance,  no  effort  even 
to  fly,  seeming  as  if  dead,  than  in  any  other  way.  Need  we 
dwell  on  the  beneficence  of  these  arrangements  ? 

Take,  again,  one  or  two  instances  of  the  operation  of  this 
law  from  the  Intellectual  part  of  our  Constitution,  and  mark 
the  variations  which  characterize  different  periods  of  life. 
Take, 

First,  Memory,  which  displays  the  Benevolence  of  the  Cre- 
ator, by  its  general  propensity  to  shun  the  painful  and  to 
dwell  only  on  the  pleasant  in  our  past  experience.  This  pro- 
pensity operates  without  check  in  childhood,  thus  securing 
that  the  retrospective  acts  of  the  mind  shall  at  that  era  be 
mainly  a  source  of  enjoyment.  In  manhood  and  middle  life 
memory  has  a  different  office  than  that  of  merely  supply- 
ing enjoyment  or  collecting  materials  for  fancy  and  imagina- 
tion. The  mind  has  to  battle  with  difficulties  by  the  light  of 
experience,  and  that  experience  will  be  a  safe  and  salutary 
guide  in  proportion  as  it  avails  itself  of  the  mistakes  and  the 
sins  of  the  past ;  and  hence,  at  this  period,  the  scenes  which 
pass  spontaneously  before  the  mind  are  of  a  more  mixed  and 
subdued  character,  —  the  spectres  of  our  former  errors  and 
offences,  with  their  consequent  sufferings,  come  unbidden 
across  our  path,  and  point,  as  if  with  monitory  hand,  towards 
a  better  road. 

But  how  is  it  when  manhood  declines  into  old  age  ? 
Memory  leaves  the  painful  of  the  past,  in  a  great  measure, 
and  settles  down  on  the  morning,  the  springtime  of  life.  It 
has  now  less  need  of  painful  remembrances  to  be  its  guide  and 
monitor.  The  time  for  action  has  mostly  passed,  the  time 
for  submission  and  patient  waiting  has  come,  and  the  old  live 
over  again  the  sunny  days  of  their  childhood  and   youth. 


THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO    GOD'S  BENEVOLENCE.     38; 

The  reason  is  plain.  Memories  so  closely  linked  with  feeling 
and  with  bright  fancies  are  imperishable,  and  hence  the  fact, 
so  familiar  to  us  all,  that  while  recent  events  are  soon  forgotten, 
those  that  belong  to  our  early  years  are  the  last  to  fade  away. 
And  is  not  the  provision  a  most  benignant  one? — benignant 
as  making  the  old  more  happy, — as  contributing,  too,  to  im- 
prove them  by  leading  them  to  that  which  was  the  most  un- 
sophisticated and  uncorrupted  period  of  their  life, — as  making 
them  also  more  pleasant  and  more  useful  companions  for  the 
young  ?  One  other  use  we  cannot  but  advert  to  as  entitled  to 
our  special  notice.  The  old  thus  become  the  faithful  chroniclers 
of  t/ie  umurittcn  past.  Did  events  appear  obscure  in  proportion 
to  their  remoteness,  the  old  would  not  be  such  valuable  links 
between  the  past  and  the  future  as  they  now  are,  preserving 
and  transmitting  faithfully,  as  their  last  act,  materials  which 
may  be  invaluable  as  evidence  in  law  or  in  history.  They 
hand  it  over,  too,  to  those  who  will  live  longest,  who 
hear  it  with  the  greatest  interest,  and  through  whom  it  will 
be  most  sure  to  pass  on  again  to  children's  children.  In 
this  way  each  link  in  the  chain  of  traditionary  evidence  of 
unwritten  history  is  nearly  equal  to  the  duration  of  three 
generations. 

Or,  turn  to  Imagmatioii, — in  childhood  providing  a  mental 
gymnasium, — supplying  to  the  soul  the  same  unfailing  spring 
of  activity  that  nervous  sensibility  supplies  to  the  body.  The 
more  various,  and,  we  had  almost  said,  the  more  extravagant 
its  earliest  creations,  the  better  for  the  soul's  development,  just 
as  creeping  and  walking  and  running  are  better  for  the  child 
than  being  carried  in  arms  or  drawn  in  a  carriage.  Hence 
the  folly  of  parents  and  nurses  who  get  expensive  toys,  thus 
replacing  the  spontaneous  fabrications  of  a  child's  fancy,  and 
the  consequently  ever-var}ang  activities  of  his  system,  by  too 
much  aid  or  guidance.  The  child,  even  more  than  the  man, 
was  intended  to  be  the  artificer  of  his  own  happiness,  and  the 
livelong  day  he  will  amuse  himself  if  we  give  him  but  a  few 


2 88  THE    THREE    IVITNEfiSES. 

blocks,  strings,  and  sticks,  with  a  free  range  in  pure  air  and 
open  field. 

In  youth  Imagination  has  a  still  higher  office, — even  that 
of  setting  before  us  the  attractions  and  rewards  of  some  active 
pursuit.  In  middle  age  it  conceives  new  plans,  aid^  in  select- 
ing the  materials  for  their  accomplishment,  and  carries  us  ever 
onwards  beyond  the  present  to  something  better  in  the  com- 
ing time.  In  old  age,  if  it  have  a  Christian's  faith,  it  gives 
one  hand  to  painting  with  mellow  radiance  the  rest  that  re- 
maineth  for  God's  people,  and  with  the  other  it  casts  bright 
hues  over  the  distant  past,  over  boyhood  and  youth,  over 
the  companions,  the  sports,  the  parents,  the  humble,  perhaps, 
but  not  unhonored  or  unlamented  home  of  life's  gayest,  hap- 
piest hours.  Beneficent  arrangement!  which  makes  the  young 
say,  "  To-morrow  shall  be  as  to-day,  and  much  more  abundant," 
— the  middle-aged  to  whisper  to  themselves,  "  Boast  not  thy- 
self of  to-morrow," — and  the  old,  "The  former  days  were  bet- 
ter than  these,"  rendering  the  first  laudatorcs  tcviporis  agcndi, 
the  last,  laudatorcs  tcmporis  acti ;  causing  the  one  to  be  pro- 
phets of  good  both  to  themselves  and  to  the  world,  the  other 
to  serve  as  monitors  of  evil  to  come,  and  historians  of  a  good 
which  is  good  no  longer.  There  is  in  one  sense  illusion,  but 
it  is  illusion  compensating  its  own  aberrations ;  to  the  young 
a  constant  stimulus  and  cordial,  to  the  aged  a  remuneration 
for  disappointments  and  sorrows. 

Look,  again,  to  the  iiniting  affections, — those  which  urge  us 
to  form  the  domestic  tie  and  the  tie  that  binds  together  fnends. 
How  they  adjust  themselves,  without  forecast  or  arrangement 
of  ours,  to  the  various  spheres  in  which  they  are  called  to  act ! 
In  early  youth,  a  confidential  friend,  not  of  our  own  imme- 
diate family,  is  a  great  blessing, —  almost  a  necessity.  When 
we  reach  maturity  of  life,  a  union  in  marriage  between  those 
of  different  sexes  is  necessary,  in  order  to  lay  the  foundation 
of  that  domestic  society  wliich  is  the  great  source,  support, 
and  ornament  of  all  other  societies, — fruitful  parent  of  a  large 


THE   SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO    GOD'S  BENEVOLENCE. 


389 


proportion  of  our  best  blessings.  And  what  is  the  nature  of 
the  affections  ?  They  see,  in  part,  through  the  medium  of 
the  Imagination.  They  fasten  early  upon  some  object  and 
invest  it  with  attractions  not  properly  its  own,  and  hence  the 
closest  and  most  unreserved  youthful  friendships  are  formed. 
Hence  marriage  becomes  not  only  possible,  but  the  great 
want  and  hope  of  life.  Hence  parties  who,  did  they  see  each 
other  with  cold,  calculating,  or  scrutinizing  eyes,  would  never 
venture  each  to  intrust  the  other  with  their  happiness,  eagerly 
join  hands  in  that  holy  alliance  for  better  or  for  worse,  which 
nothing  but  death  ought  to  dissolve.  These  charms  gradually 
disappear,  perhaps,  but  they  are  replaced  by  others  of  a  milder 
and  more  steadfast  hue.  We  do  not  cease  to  love  our  wives 
or  husbands  because  we  discover  that  they  are  not  abso- 
lutely perfect.  We  see  in  them  the  parents  of  our  children, — 
the  partners  of  our  joys  and  sorrows, — objects  of  care  and 
tenderness  to  us  as  we  are  of  care  and  tenderness  to  them. 
We  know  that  their  welfare,  and  the  welfare  of  those  dear 
alike  to  both,  depend  on  our  union  being  perpetuated  in 
peace  and  love  ;  and  thus  we  exchange  for  the  gay  illusions 
of  our  first  love,  the  sober,  salutary  illusion  of  a  permanent 
habitual  affection.  There  is  still  illusion,  but  no  deception. 
The  object  of  our  affection  does  not  appear  to  us  as  to  an 
unconcerned  and  critical  spectator.  We  look  with  our  heart 
as  well  as  with  our  understanding.  We  look  as  we  were  in- 
tended to  look.  Objects  of  pure  science  are  to  be  viewed 
with  intellect  alone,  objects  of  taste  through  taste  enlightened 
by  reason,  and  objects  of  affection  through  affection  sobered 
by  the  same  faculty.  Nor  is  the  illusion  such  as  to  occasion 
actual  deception.  We  know  full  well  that  our  mother,  sister, 
wife,  though  beautiful  to  us,  may  be  positively  plain,  or  even 
ugly,  to  a  stranger.  The  illusion  we  experience  is  like  that 
which  overspreads  us  when  we  witness  a  dramatic  repre- 
sentation,— the  more  pleasant  that  we  know  it  to  be,  in  one 
sense,  the    creation  of  our    own    minds,  and  that  it  can  be 


3QO  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

enjoyed  without  endangering  our  welfare  or  the  welfare  of 
others. 

So  with  the  other  sex.  It  would  argue  ill  for  the  marriage 
union  did  not  woman  carry  all  through  life  her  deep  sense  of 
affection  and  her  power  of  casting  over  the  husband,  for  whom 
she  is  ready  to  sacrifice  everything,  a  corresponding  halo  of 
goodness  and  worth. 

But  I  pass  to  another  principle,  which  seems  to  be  com- 
pounded in  part  from  those  already  noticed,  viz. : 

2.  The  power  which  the  whole  mind  has  (corresponding 
with  that  possessed  by  each  faculty)  of  bringing  about  a 
mutual  adjustment  between  itself  and  the  place  in  which  it  is 
permanently  established.  The  fact  is  familiar  to  us  that  hap- 
piness is  to  be  found  everywhere, — in  wealth  and  poverty,  in 
rank  and  servitude,  under  polar  skies  and  on  equinoctial  sands. 
The  mind  is,  in  one  sense,  its  own  place  ;  it  can  surround  itself 
with  materials  of  contentment — even  of  enjoyment — in  any 
sphere.  And  this  is  not  merely  the  result  of  the  passive 
power  in  the  mind, — the  power  of  acquiescing  in  what  is. 
Were  that  the  only  element,  life  would  be  too  stationary.  Im- 
provement would  be  impossible,  whether  for  the  individual  or 
for  society.  There  is  an  active  power  which  strives  to  effect  the 
adjustment,  in  the  first  place,  not  by  bending  our  wills,  tastes, 
and  habits,  but  by  bending  the  wills  and  habits  of  others,  and 
by  mastering  and  subduing  the  powers  of  nature.  Hence  a 
struggle  takes  place,  unless  early  training  and  habit  have  al- 
ready superinduced  a  conformity  in  the  mind.  That  struggle 
is  the  fruitful  source  of  good  to  the  individual  and  to  the 
world.  But  when,  at  length,  it  is  seen  to  be  a  struggle  in 
vain,  we  come  under  the  law  that  insurmountable  impedi- 
ments lessen  or  extinguish  des.ire.  We  call  upon  our  forti- 
tude, our  patience.  We  look  for  reasons  to  reconcile  us  to 
our  lot.  We  become  engaged  and  interested  in  what  is  prac- 
ticable. And  life  becomes  not  only  possible,  but  pleasurable 
everywhere, — in  Lapland,  in  Middle  Africa,  among  the  Esqui- 


THE   SOUL   A    WITNESS    TO    GOD'S  BENEVOLENCE.     301 

maux,  where  the  cold  freezes  mercury,  and  among  the  Hot- 
tentots. The  country  of  each  is,  in  the  estimation  of  each,  a 
paradise,  and  there  is  contentment  and  enjoyment,  though, 
according  to  the  true  standard,  we  can  hardly  say  there  is 
happiness. 

3.  The  next  law  which  we  would  mention  is  most  signifi- 
cant of  Divine  Benevolence.  It  is  the  law  that  those  senti- 
ments and  that  state  of  mind  which  are  most  conducive  to 
permanent  good,  as  %v ell  for  the  agent  as  for  others,  are  to  a 
well-regulated  mind  also  most  pleasurable  at  the  time.  God 
seems  to  give  us  a  bounty  for  consenting  to  be  happy  our- 
selves, and  to  act  as  instruments  of  happiness  to  those  about 
us.  All  along  the  path  that  leads  to  our  ultimate  and  greatest 
good  He  strews  flowers  and  gives  music,  that  we  may  thereby 
be  induced  to  take  it.  For  example,  Hope,  which  is  always 
needed,  is  always  pleasant,  always  a  cordial  to  the  heart. 
Fear,  which  is  needed  occasionally,  and  for  a  brief  space,  is 
painful.  The  benevolent  affections  are  more  pleasant  than  the 
selfish,  and  yet  more  so  when  compared  with  the  malevo- 
lent or  defensive.  Mental  pleasures  are  more  delightful  than 
animal,  because — i,  they  do  not  exclude  rt///w«/ pleasures ; 
2,  they  greatly  heighten  them.  There  is  even  more  organic 
pleasure  in  eating  and  drinking,  for  those  whose  minds  are 
pleasantly  occupied,  than  for  the  man  who,  having  neither 
knowledge  nor  thought,  is  but  an  animal.  So  of  odors,  so  of 
sexual  appetite,  so  yet  more  of  the  higher  pleasures  of  the 
eye  and  ear. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   SOUL    WITNESSING    TO    THE  HOLINESS   OF  GOD. 

WE  discuss  this  Divine  Attribute  here  with  the  aid, 
mainly,  of  Psychology,  and  we  shall  confine  our  re- 
marks, for  the  most  part,  to  the  Moral  Constitution  of  man ; 
premising, — 

That  we  do  not  present  our  views  here,  or  elsewhere  in 
this  work,  as  if  they  were  exclusively  or  pre-eminently  im- 
portant, or  as  if  the  fate  of  Religion  depended  on  their  accept- 
ance. We  can  explore  but  a  small  part  of  the  great  field 
of  Evidence, —  of  that  part  we  can  present  only  specimens. 
Should  any  fallacies  be  perpetrated  in  our  expositions,  let 
them  be  charged  to  the  advocate,  not  to  the  cause.  It  is  the 
fate  of  many  a  client,  with  a  good  cause,  to  entrust  the  conduct 
of  it  to  incompetent  counsel ;  but  it  is  no  less  the  duty  of  en- 
lightened and  impartial  judges  to  look  beyond  Ids  mistakes  to 
the  true  merits  and  facts  of  the  case.  Happy  is  it  for  Religion 
that  its  practical  interests  do  not  depend  solely  nor  even  mainly 
on  the  wisdom  of  men,  but  on  the  power  of  God !  Through 
the  medium  of  our  instinctive  and  deep-seated  feelings  and 
convictions  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  our  experience  on  the 
other,  it  is  provided  that  Religion,  as  a  great  Interest  coming 
home  to  the  business  and  bosoms  of  men,  shall  ever  com- 
mand at  least  a  nominal  homage.  Our  special  object  is  to 
vindicate  the  reasonableness  of  religious  faith  to  those  who 
insist  on  surveying  it  through  Reason  ;  who  demand  scientific 
grounds  for  its  great  principles ;  who  insist  that  it  shall  be 
(392  ) 


1 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING    TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.    3^^ 

subjected  to  the  scrutiny  of  logical  tests  ;  and  who  justly 
distinguish  between  Religion  as  a  duty  to  be  discharged  or  a 
sentiment  to  be  felt,  and  Theology  as  a  science  to  be  investi- 
gated and  established  by  proof. 

We  remark,  further,  that  in  speaking  of  the  moral  constitn- 
tion  of  man,  we  shall  endeavor  to  shun  speculations  merely 
theoretical.  This  part  of  our  nature  has  given  rise  to  much 
discussion  among  Psychologists  and  Ethical  Philosophers ; 
and  the  analysis  of  it  is  still  incomplete.  But  there  are  cer- 
tain great  facts  and  laws  which  are  obvious  to  all,  and  in 
respect  to  which  Epicurus  and  Zeno,  Aristotle  and  Plato, 
Locke  and  Leibnitz,  Paley  and  Butler,  with  their  disciples, 
might  agree,  differ  though  they  should  as  to  the  explanation 
of  those  facts.  Occasionally  and  inadvertently  we  may  use 
the  language  of  that  which  we  hold  to  be  the  true  theory ; 
but  the  acceptance  of  that  theory  is  no  necessary  condition  to 
the  reception  of  the  arguments  which  we  shall  have  occasion 
to  urge.  One  assumption,  and  but  one,  we  shall  be  obliged 
to  make,  and  this  is,  that  man  has  a  moral  nature,  as  distin- 
guished from  that  which  is  intellectual,  sensitive,  aesthetical, 
etc.  Without  this  we  should  have  no  basis  for  the  particular 
argument  we  shall  insist  upon  in  this  connection ;  nor,  as  it 
seems  to  us,  should  we,  but  for  possessing  such  a  nature,  be 
able  to  form  any  conception  of  the  moral  nature  of  God 
Himself, —  of  the  Holiness  which  leads  Him  to  promote 
the  moral  well-being  of  his  creatures  as  distinguished  from 
the  Benevolence  which  urges  Him  to  provide  for  their  simple 
enjoyment. 

Our  moral  )ialuf  e  presents  two  leading  powers  or  functions : — 
I.  The  power  of  discerning  moral  distinctions.  2.  The  power 
of  feeling  moral  emotions.  Each  one  of  these  reflects  the 
Holiness  of  God. 

\.  The  discerning  power.  There  is,  in  the  human  mind,  a 
notion  of  moral  right  and  moral  wrong.  When  we  look  at 
the  voluntary  actions  of  our  fellow-men,  we  are  conscious  of 


3Q4  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

perceiving  in  many  of  them*  a  quality  wholly  dififcrent  from 
their  propriety  or  gracefulness,  or  even  profitableness,  which 
we  call  their  moral  quality.  This  quality  is  designated  by  the 
term  right  or  wrong,  good  or  bad,  virtuous  or  vicious;  and  we 
express  our  sense  of  the  moral  relation  in  which  the  agent 
stands  to  the  action  by  saying  that  he  oiight  or  he  ought  not  to 
have  done  it.  Such  language  we  never  apply  to  the  conduct 
of  an  animal.  That  there  is  something  more  in  such  actions 
than  their  mere  tendency  to  promote  or  obstruct  our  advan- 
tage, is  obvious  from  the  fact  that  we  all  conceive  of  actions 
which  might  be  profitable  and  yet  not  right,  or  right  and  yet 
not  profitable.  We  admit  that,  on  the  whole,  if  we  include 
others  as  well  as  ourselves,  and  the  life  to  come  as  well  as  the 
life  present,  actions  which  are  right  will  be  ultimately  useful. 
But  yet  we  can  conceive  it  to  have  been  otherwise.  To  the 
individual  acting  it  often  is  otherwise  in  this  world.  The  con- 
currence of  the  two  properties  in  the  same  action  proves 
nothing  of  the  one  being  the  cause  of  the  other ;  and  even  if 
they  do  stand  in  that  relation,  it  might  be  impossible  for  us  to 
discriminate  the  effect  from  the  cause. 

Be  it  observed,  too,  that  this  concurrence  or  coincidence  of 
utility  and  virtue  in  the  same  action  is  slowly  discovered  and 
reluctantly  and  doubtfully  admitted  by  men.  Take  the  lowest 
form  of  the  truth,  "Honesty  is  the  best  policy"  and  how  prone 
mankind  are  to  question  it!  For  this  life,  how  many  excep- 
tions are  there  to  it !  How  often  are  men  honest  in  spite  of 
altogether  distrusting  the  policy  of  being  so!  And  were  we 
assured  that  the  most  upright  men  we  know  were  upright 
only  because  they  acted  on  this  maxim,  should  we  still  honor 
them,  honor  them  above  all  others,  adorn  them  with  the  lofty 
epithets  o{ pure,  honorable,  or  even  honest?  Cunning,  shrewd, 
sagacious  would,  in  such  case,  be  our  chosen  terms  of  praise. 

*  An  action,  to  be  the  proper  object  of  this  power,  must  be, —  i.  Voluntary. 
2.  Performed  by  an  agent  capable  of  reflecting.  3.  Accordant  or  discordant  in 
respect  to  some  known  relation. 


I 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING   TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


395 


{a)  Observe  the  nniveisality  of  this  power.  All  of  our  race, 
except  idiots  and  madmen,  have  it.  It  appears  earlier  in  children 
than  almost  any  other  power,  and  appears  under  circumstances 
which  clearly  prove  that  there  is  a  predisposition  to  the  form- 
ing of  moral  notions.  In  all  nations,  as  appears  from  their 
languages,  and  in  all  ages,  these  distinctions  have  been  made, 
more  or  less  imperfectly.  Where  the  imperfection  is  greatest, 
there,  as  travellers  among  the  most  benighted  heathen  testify, 
is  an  aptitude — a  proclivity  for  better  and  clearer  conceptions — 
which  only  waits  a  fitting  opportunity  to  manifest  itself 

It  applies,  also,  to  all  the  mental  states  of  such  individuals. 
Of  some,  it  pronounces  that  they  have  no  moral  quality ;  of 
others,  that  they  are  right  or  wrong,  according  to  circum- 
stances ;  of  others,  that  they  are  invariably  and  eternally  right 
or  wrong.  It  pronounces  not  only  on  the  active  but  also  on 
the  passive  states  of  the  soul,  decides  when  they  are  criminal, 
and  in  what  degree,  and  this  teaches  us  to  anticipate  the 
doom  of  the  unprofitable  servant,  if  we  follow  his  example. 

It  pronounces,  also,  of  actions  which  terminate  on  our- 
selves and  affect  only  our  own  happiness,  declaring,  for  in- 
stance, that  he  who  trifles  with  his  own  happiness  is  not  a 
madman  merely,  but  a  criminal ;  that  he  deserves  not  only  com- 
passion and  contempt  as  a  fool,  but  indignant  scorn  as  a  faith- 
less steward,  who  has  impiously  thrown  away  what  has  been 
confided  to  his  care,  and  what  was  intended  at  once  for  his 
enjoyment  and  his  improvement,  as  well  as  for  the  benefit  of 
others.  It  extends  its  jurisdiction,  too,  above  mankind.  It 
feels  that  it  could  judge  angels,  archangels,  God.  Why  are 
we  arguing  the  question  whether  God  be  indeed  holy?  Do 
we  not  thereby  assume  that  we  are  able  to  form  conceptions 
of  his  character  by  some  standard  without  Himself?  And,  if 
the  Bible  is  true  and  divine,  He  recognizes  both  our  ability 
and  our  right  to  do  this.  "Are  not  my  ways  equal  ?  are  not 
your  ways  unequal  ?"  saith  the  Lord. 

And  what  does   this   indicate, — the  possession  of  such  a 


596 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


power  by  man, — a  power  so  high  in  itself,  so  aspiring  in  its 
office  and  aims,  so  pecuHar  in  its  nature?  Does  it  not  point 
to  the  existence  of  a  corresponding  power  in  God  ?  "  lie 
that  teacheth  man  knowledge,  shall  He  not  know?" 

{U)  Observe,  again,  \\\&  fallihUity  of  this  power.  Like  Rea- 
son and  Taste,  Conscience,  or  the  moral  sense,  always  makes 
distinctions,  but  it  does  not  always  make  them  correctly.  Like 
them,  too,  it  can  be  educated  upward  to  a  much  higher  per- 
fection, or  downward  to  a  lower  fallibility;  and  this  educa- 
tion is  partly  from  without  and  partly  self-derived.  We  can- 
not too  carefully  distinguish  between  absolute  and  relative 
virtue, — between  meaning  vjeW  and  doing  well.  As  we  can  do 
wrong  with  a  good  intention,  so  we  can  do  good  with  an  evil 
intention.  The  intention  determines  the  moral  character  of 
the  agent,  but  not  that  of  the  aetion.  The  resolving  of  all 
virtue  into  the  subjective  condition,  into  the  motive  or  feeling 
in  the  mind,  is  dangerous,  unfriendly  to  all  improvement  in 
character  and  to  all  steadiness  in  action.  This  was  the  radi- 
cal vice  of  Rousseau's  philosophy.  It  has  been  adopted  by 
those  of  much  nobler  aims,  such  as  the  late  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown,  of  Edinburgh,  and  it  disfigures  many  of  the  admirable 
pictures  of  Mr.  Dickens. 

But  what  is  to  be  inferred  honorable  to  God,  it  may  be 
asked,  from  this  imperfection  in  man? 

We  answer,  in  the  first  place,  let  the  objector  prove  that  it 
is  an  imperfection.  If  man's  present  state  be  one  of  trial  and 
discipline,  this  fallibility  of  conscience  is  no  imperfection,  but 
a  necessary  prerequisite.  Unerring  and  infallible  moral  judg- 
ments pertain  to  a  state  that  is  fixed,  not  to  one  that  is  con- 
tingent;  and  God  displays  his  Holiness  in  endowing  us  with 
the  capacity  for  arriving  gradually  at  such  judgments,  and 
then  charging  us  with  the  responsibility  of  using  or  abusing 
it.  It  proclaims  to  us  the  fearful  alternative  which  we  have 
before  us, — a  conscience  progressive  or  retrogressive, — in  the 
one  case  increasing  our  virtue  and  worth  in  exact  proportion 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING   TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.     307 

with  the  growth  of  our  powers  and  our  responsibilities ;  in 
the  other  case  deteriorating  ahke  our  character  and  our 
powers,  but  not  lessening  our  responsibility. 

2.  This  fallibility  of  conscience  raises  our  minds  from  the 
imperfection  of  our  own  moral  nature,  which  we  feel  and  de- 
plore, to  the  perfection  of  a  Holiness  which  cannot  err,  thus 
adding  to  our  reverence  for  God,  and  urging  us  to  strive 
after  assimilation  to  his  perfect  moral  character. 

3.  It  may  lead  us  to  consider  that  since  morality  has  to 
our  minds  its  objective  as  well  as  its  subjective  side,  it  may 
have  the  same  to  God.  "  If  God  were  to  command  us  to  hate 
Himself,  hatred  to  God  would  be  our  duty,"  was  the  language 
of  Occam.  Abhorrent  as  such  language  may  be  to  our  deepest 
convictions  and  sentiments,  it  has  often  been  the  language  of 
philosophy,  falsely  so  called. 

Why  should  there  not  be  an  inumitablc  or  necessary 
morality,  as  well  as  a  necessary  and  immutable  Geometry? 
No  modern  writer  has  vindicated  this  fundamental  truth  so 
copiously  and  powerfully  as  Cudworth. 

4.  This  imperfection  of  conscience  also  teaches  us  why  the 
Creator's  demands  on  men,  on  individuals,  and  on  nations 
should  be  progressive,  corresponding  with  the  progress  of 
light  and  of  moral  power. 

We  come  now  to — II.  The  emotional  pozver  o{  conscience. 
We  say  conscience  merely  for  the  sake  of  convenience.  We 
care  not  though  it  be  held  to  be  a  secondary  principle  in  hu- 
man nature,  instead  of  being  a  primitive  and  irreducible  one. 
We  only  contend  that  there  is  a  power  of  discerning  moral 
distinctions,  and  of  being  affected  by  the  corresponding  emo- 
tion. When  we  perceive  an  action,  be  it  our  own  or  another's, 
and  judge  it  to  be  right,  we  feel  approval  and  pleasure,  just  as 
when  we  discern  an  evil  action  we  experience  an  emotion  of 
displeasure ;  and  this  emotion  is  vivid  and  powerful  in  pro- 
portion as  the  moral  quality  is  present  in  higher  or  lower  de- 
gree.    Thus,  paying  an  honest  debt  excites  less  approbation 


398 


rilE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


than  making  a  donation  to  the  poor ;  such  donation,  less  than 
a  generous  act  towards  an  enemy;  and  even  such  an  act,  less 
than  extending  full  pardon  to  one  who  had  greatly  wronged  us. 

And  does  not  the  possession  of  this  sensibility,  on  our  part, 
point  to  the  existence  of  one  corresponding,  but  infinitely 
higher,  in  God  ?  Is  not  the  author  of  such  a  moral  sensi- 
bility likely  to  be  angry  with  the  wicked  every  day?  Shall 
crime  move  our  displeasure  so  intensely  and  leave  Him  un- 
moved ? 

Cons'xdQv  \he.  variations  in  this  moral  emotion: — i.  We  look 
on  the  actions  of  those  distant  in  time  or  place,  or  we  read  his- 
torical accounts  of  them,  and  feel,  in  some  measure,  approba- 
tion or  disapprobation.  This  feeling,  too,  is  not  entirely  pas- 
sive. It  prompts  us  to  imitate  or  to  avoid.  It  also  inclines 
us,  as  we  read,  to  call  up  the  dead  or  the  distant  for  trial,  thus 
foreshadowing  the  great  Assize. 

2.  We  look  at  the  actions  of  those  who  are  near,  and  our 
approbation  or  disapprobation  is  at  once  more  intense  and  of 
more  active  character.  Before  an  action,  it  prompts  us  to  in- 
terpose, in  order  to  aid  or  obstruct  it ;  afterwards,  it  urges 
us  to  reward  or  to  punish  it ;  and  it  thus  contributes,  most 
materially,  to  deal  out  retribution  to  actions  as  they  transpire 
in  this  world,  {a)  directly,  and  {b)  indirectly  by  leading  us  to 
uphold  law  and  demand  its  righteous  administration. 

3.  We  survey  our  own  actions  before  and  after  they  are  per- 
formed, and  are  visited  by  corresponding  emotions.  If  we 
have  done  right,  we  not  only  applaud  ourselves,  we  know  that 
others  applaud  us,  and  in  that  applause  we  seem  to  hear  a 
prelude  to  the  "  Well  done"  of  Him  who  is  God  over  all,  and 
who  is  to  be  our  righteous  Judge  at  last. 

If  we  have  done  evil,  we  not  only  condemn  ourselves,  we 
know  that  others  condemn  us,  and  are  ready  to  be  the  instru- 
ments of  our  punishment.  Hence  we  fear  and  tremble,  and 
then  the  soul  whispers  to  itself,  "  If  thine  own  heart  condemn 
thee,  and  if  every  heart  like  thine  own  condemns  and  would 


THE   SOUL   WITNESSING    TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


399 


punish  thee,  then  consider  that  God  is  greater  than  thy  heart, 
and  knoweth  all  things." 

These  different  phases  of  our  moral  sensibility  seem  to 
point  distinctly  to  the  pleasure  or  displeasure,  more  intense 
than  we  can  think,  with  which  God  looks  on  moral  actions, 
to  the  Holiness  which  urges  Him  to  encourage  only  the  good 
and  to  frown  on  the  evil,  and  which  employs  these  moral  sen- 
timents in  our  hearts  as  so  many  means  through  which  we 
become,  in  respect  to  one  another,  executioners  of  his  justice. 

DEFECTIBILITY    OF    CONSCIENCE. 

We  should  consider  also  the  Defectibility  of  this  emotional 
power  in  conscience.  As  the  discerning  power  is  fallible,  so 
the  emotional  power  is  dcfectible.  It  may  fail  to  feel  the  emo- 
tions which  properly  belong  to  the  action  or  feeling;  it  may 
fail  to  be  properly  influenced  by  them.  To  approve  the  better 
and  follow  the  worse  is  a  familiar  case,  and  it  is  a  case  in 
which  the  discerning  and  approving  power  may  be  faintly  ex- 
erted, but  without  the  necessary  impulsive  power.  Conscience 
points  out  the  right  way,  but  does  not  constrain  us  with  suf- 
ficient force  to  take  that  way.  There  are  other  cases  in  which 
we  not  only  follow  the  worse,  but  seem  to  come  by  degrees 
to  approve  and  love  it.    Pope  has  attempted  a  description : — 

Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien, 
That  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen; 
But  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace. 

As  we  propose  to  examine  the  defectibility  of  conscience, 

for  the  purpose  of  showing  that  it  does  not  compromise  the 

i-  Holiness  of  God,  but  rather  illustrates  and  exalts  it,  we  will 

point  out  wherein,  as  it  seems  to  us,  the  statement  of  Pope 

may  be  corrected. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  not  true  that  in  order  to  be  hated 
vice  or  evil  needs  but  to  be  seen,  unless  by  seeing  we  under- 


400  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Stand  more  than  is  usually  implied  by  that  term.     Vice  may 
be  seen  and  yet  not  be  properly  considered.     It  may  be  con- 
sidered and  yet  be  surveyed  in  the  light  of  its  accessories, 
rather  than  in  that  which  is  properly  its  own.     As  the  young 
now  grow  up,  how  many  actions,  sanctioned  by  general  cus- 
tom or  by  the  practice  of  those  whom  we  love  or  honor,  come 
to   be   allowed,  and  even   performed,  which  are  intrinsically 
wrong,  and  which  will  be  seen  at  last  to  be  deplorably  evil ! 
How  little  is  done  to  draw  the  attention  of  the  young  to  the 
true  moral  character  of  a  large  proportion  of  their  acts! — how 
little  to  lead  them  even  to  raise  the  question,  "  Is  this  right 
that  I  am  about  to  do  ?"     "  Do  as  others  do;"    "  Do  not  pro- 
voke ridicule  ;"  "  Do  not  affect  or  expect  to  be  wiser  or  better 
than  your  seniors," — these,  in  spirit,  if  not  in  form,  are  too 
often  the  burden  of  our  moral  teaching,  while  the  moral  eye 
and  the  moral  sensibilities  are  meantime  vacant, — gazing  care- 
lessly abroad,  and  moved  by  no  deep  and  appropriate  sense 
of  what  we  ought  to  do.     It  is  with  conscience  as  we  have 
seen  it  is  with  the  corporeal  eye  by  nature, — it  is  adjustable, 
but  not  adjusted.    It  needs,  more  than  the  corporeal  eye,  assist- 
ance and  direction  from  without,  to  secure  that  this  adjust- 
ment shall  be  correct  and  the  functions  of  the  instrument  be 
duly   executed.     Let    parents,   teachers,   guardians   withhold 
these,  and  the  consequence  must  be  that  the  rising  generation 
will  come  insensibly  to  tolerate  and  even  love  much  evil  with- 
out ever  having  hated  it  at  first,  and,  indeed,  without  ever 
having  properly  observed  it.     Nothing  is  more  important  for 
the  young,  and,  indeed-,  for  all,  than  that  the  jurisdiction  of 
conscience  should  be  enlarged ;  that  actions  which  now  pass 
without  consideration  should  be  weighed ;  that  the  moral  eye 
and  the  moral  heart  should  be  always  abroad,  vigilant  in  ob- 
serving and  prompt  in  reporting  the  true  quality  of  all  the 
visitants  within  our  moral  and  mental  sphere.*     How  much 


*  Some  natures  are  morljidly  sensitive  and  scrupulous  in  regard  to  their  actions. 
They  are  exceptional  cases,  of  which  we  do  not  speak,  here. 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING   TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.    ^qI 

injustice  and  unklndness  are  perpetrated  unconsciously!  How 
unsafe  for  any  one  to  lay  to  his  soul  the  flattering  unction 
that  "all  is  well"  in  the  kingdom  and  estate  of  his  heart,  be- 
cause he  is  not  distinctly  conscious  of  doing  wrong ! 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  not  true  that  familiarity  with  vice 
leads  us  always  first  to  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace.  It  was 
not  so  with  John  Howard,  nor  with  Elizabeth  Fry.  It  shall  not 
be  so  with  any  good  man  who  goes  among  the  vicious  to  serve 
and  reclaim  them.  His  holiness  shall  be  proof  against  the 
contagion  of  their  society.  Nay,  healing  power  and  virtue 
shall  go  forth  upon  him  as  well  as  them.  Should  purity 
prompt  us  to  keep  away  from  the  impure  and  guilty  ?  So 
thought  not  Christ,  though  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  did. 
So  thought  not  God,  when  He  sent  his  Son  into  the  world, 
not  to  condemn  it,  but  that  the  world  through  Him  might  be 
saved.  Holiness  prompts  rather  to  intercourse  with  the 
wicked,  if  thereby  they  can  be  made  holy.  It  would  raise 
all  to  its  own  level,  impress  on  all  its  own  image.  Whether 
contact  with,  and  contemplation  of,  vice  shall  corrupt,  de- 
pends, then,  wholly  on  the  motive  and  spirit  by  which  we 
are  actuated. 

Nor  is  it  true  that  when  men,  from  contact  with  vice,  do 
become  vicious,  they  can  always  be  said  to  embrace  it,  if  by 
that  we  mean  love  it.  Some  men  and  some  women  do  evil, 
all  the  while  hating  it,  and  all  the  while  hating  themselves  for 
it,  and  anxiously  desiring  to  save  others  from  its  pollution.  It 
is  so  with  some  parents  who  resign  themselves  to  sin,  but  who 
would  save  their  children  from  the  poison  of  their  example. 
Alas,  the  self-delusions  we  practise  on  ourselves !  For  such 
solicitude  in  respect  to  our  children  and  to  others  we  often 
take  praise  to  ourselves,  when,  in  truth,  it  pronounces  but  the 
more  loudly  our  condemnation. 

Even  when  men  embrace  the  vice,  and  practise  it  heartily 
and  cordially,  is  it  as  vice  F  Rarely,  Passion  has  concentrated 
the  regards  of  the  mind,  perhaps  has  borrowed  the  aid  of  con- 

26 


402  ^^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

science,  and  we  are  either  unobservant  of  the  moral  character 
of  our  act  or  we  persuade  ourselves  that  it  is  right.  Like 
David,  we  condemn  another  for  injustice  much  less  flagrant 
than  that  which  we  ourselves  commit.  In  respect  to  our  own 
great  sins,  conscience  may  be  dormant;  but  it  is  only  until 
some  Nathan,  with  a  prophet's  authority,  shall  bid  it  awake, 
and  then  it  will  show  itself  with  all  the  majesty  of  a  giant  re- 
freshed by  sleep.  Thus  shall  many  a  conscience,  now  torpid, 
awake  one  day ! 

In  other  cases,  we  transmute  the  apparent  character  of  an 
act  by  association.  The  end  is  holy ;  holy,  therefore,  we  think, 
must  be  the  means.  We  do  not  consider  that  a  worthy  end 
claims  that  none  but  worthy  means  be  used  in  its  pursuit.  We 
do  not  reflect  that  the  means  are  so  many  acts,  each  to  be 
tried  by  its  own  intrinsic  character,  rather  than  by  its  ten- 
dency to  promote  a  certain  result.  How  often  do  bigots  and 
persecutors  delude  themselves  in  this  way ! 

Again.  Those  that  we  love,  obey,  or  admire  commit  the 
action.  How  easily  is  the  lustre  of  their  station,  accomplish- 
ments, or  virtues  transferred  to  their  vices,  and  made  to  gild 
them  over  with  the  appearance  of  innocence  or  goodness! 
We  tolerate  and  practise  them,  not  as  vices,  but  as  virtues. 

Even  in  the  most  degenerate  state  of  society  men  do  not 
cease  to  honor  virtue.  They  honor  it  then  by  their  hypoc- 
risy. The  fine  names  they  give  to  their  crimes,  the  high  mo- 
tives by  which  they  profess  to  be  actuated,  all  proclaim  how 
the  wicked  shrink  from  regarding  themselves  as  wholly  devoid 
of  goodness.  They  honor  virtue,  again,  by  the  ideal  homage 
they  render  to  it  in  conversation,  in  the  theatre,  in  reading 
poetry  and  fiction.  Tears  will  be  shed  over  ideal  excellence 
or  imaginary  suffering  by  those  who  have  no  heart  for  real 
distress,  nor  one  feeling  for  the  most  ordinary  duties  and 
charities  of  life.  Nor  are  they  wholly  feigned.  There  is  a 
morbid  sentimentality  into  which  men  fall,  when  nothing  of 
actual  virtue  is  left,  and  it  shows  how  ineffaceable  these  moral 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING   TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.     403 

lines  on  the  soul  are.  He  who  is  the  bond-slave  of  vice  still 
loves,  at  times,  to  escape  from  the  base  actual  to  a  fairer  and 
purer  ideal  world. 

There  are  few  men,  then,  who  embrace  evil  as  evil,  love  it 
as  evil,  glorying  in  their  shame.  lago  might.  The  Devil 
does.  Hence  Milton  errs,  we  think,  from  the  line  of  Scrip- 
ture, though  most  true  to  ordinary  human  nature,  when  he 
represents  Satan  as  feeling  remorse,  and  shedding  even  com- 
punctious tears,  as  he  surveys  his  companions  brought  to 
misery  through  his  guidance.  The  Devil  is  everywhere  pre- 
sented to  us,  in  the  book  of  God,  as  possessed  and  governed 
by  unmitigated  malignity,  scorn,  and  fraud.  But  even  lago 
and  the  Devil,  when  they  would  influence  men  to  do  wrong, 
must  needs  play  the  hypocrite,  thus  rendering  homage  to  the 
indestructible  power  of  conscience,  and  foreshadowing  as 
harbingers  the  day  when  it  is  to  awake,  and,  clothing  itself 
with  all  its  native  power  and  integrity,  vindicate  by  its  retri- 
butions the  Holiness  of  Him  whom  it  honors  now  even  in 
its  apparent  aberrations.  "Conscience,"  says  Shakspeare,  "is 
a  thousand  swords."  Those  swords  may  sleep,  sleep  long  in 
their  scabbards.  But  they  are  not  rusted.  Occasionally  they 
gleam  for  an  instant  fitfully  in  our  eyes,  presaging  the  day 
when  they  are  to  leap  forth  to  their  avenging  task. 

Having  now  touched  upon  the  nature  and  offices  of  Con- 
science, we  add  one  word  of  the  rank  it  was  intended  to  hold 
among  our  other  powers  and  susceptibilities.  Should  it 
appear  that  that  rank  is  the  highest,  we  shall  have  reason  to 
conclude  that  in  the  Divine  Mind  the  Holiness  to  which  con- 
science points  us  is  also  the  attribute  most  sacred  and  in- 
violable. 

Be  it  observed  here  that  we  speak  not  of  the  power  which 
Conscience  usually  possesses,  but  of  that  which  it  v/as  in- 
tended to  possess,  and  shou/d  possess, — of  its  authority,  and  not 
its  strength, — of  its  potential  or  normal  prerogative,  not  of  its 
actual  ascendency. 


404 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


1.  That  this  is  supreme  would  be  apparent  even  from  our 
own  consciousness^  which  tells  us  that  among  our  different  im- 
pulses that  which  points  to  virtue  is  the  highest.  We  cannot 
but  feel  that  the  right  should  ever  be  preferred  before  the 
expedient  or  the  pleasurable. 

2.  So  when  we  look  on  others  we  cannot  but  feel  that  the 
impulses  under  which  they  act,  whether  sensual  or  sordid,  or 
virtuous  or  benevolent,  are  of  different  degrees  of  dignity ; 
that  the  highest  in  rank  are  those  which  conscience  approves 
most,  and  that  these,  though  the  feeblest  in  strength,  should 
still  command  their  preference  and  be  first  obeyed. 

3.  When  we  look  retrospectively  on  our  conduct,  who  ever 
condemns  the  right  that  he  has  done,  or  rejoices  in  the  re- 
membrance of  the  wrong  he  has  been  tempted  to  commit  ? 
That  which  he  has  gained  by  sin  or  lost  by  well-doing,  may 
lead  him  to  doubt  the  expediency  of  virtue,  but  it  never  leads 
him  to  doubt  its  sacredness  and  majesty. 


CHAPTER  VL 
THE  SOUL   WITNESSING   TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 

WE  shall  derive  our  illustrations  in  this  chapter  from  cer- 
tain principles  which  may  be  considered  as  auxiliary  to 
Conscience.  In  a  well-regulated  mind,  every  faculty  and  af- 
fection will  be  made  to  subserve  this  purpose ;  but  it  is  the 
special  office  of  those  we  shall  notice  to  do  so.  These  are, — 
I.  Prudence  or  Regard  to  our  good  on  the  zvhole.  2.  Honor  or 
Regard  to  what  becomes  us  as  men.  3.  Our  judgment  of  actions 
as  affected  by  residts. 

I.  Prudence  is  a  rational  principle,  prompting  us  to  arbitrate 
among  our  appetites,  passions,  and  susceptibilities,  so  as  to 
educe  from  them  the  maximum  of  enjoyment.  It  is  also  a 
legitimate  principle,  since  to  have  care  for  our  happiness  is  both 
our  right  and  our  duty. 

Is  it  asked  how  prudence  is  auxiliary  to  conscience  ?  We 
answer,  by  availing  itself  of  the  fact  that  what  is  right  is  also, 
on  the  zvhole,  for  07ir  happiness,  i.  Sometimes  we  can  much 
more  easily  ascertain  what  is  right  than  what  is,  on  the  whole, 
expedient.  Then  this  fact  comes  in  for  our  encouragement, 
assuring  us  that  in  following  the  right  we  shall  not  only  do 
our  duty,  but  also  ultimately  gain  enjoyment.  2.  Sometimes, 
again,  we  can  better  ascertain  what  is  expedient  than  what  is 
right,  as  in  the  case,  for  instance,  of  polygamy  or  adlibitive 
divorces.  Here  the  expedient,  ascertained  either  by  our  own 
experience  or  by  that  of  the  world,  becomes  the  index  of  the 
right ;  and  Prudence  aids  Conscience  by  furnishing  it,  in  doubt- 
ful cases,  with  both  a  criterion  and  a  motive.  In  these  cases, 
the  two  principles  are  mutually  auxiliary. 

(405) 


4o6 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


But  there  is  another  great  and  much-neglected  fact  through 
which  Conscience  derives  further  aid  from  Prudence.  Expe- 
rience teaches  that  he  is  most  happy  who  thinks  most  of  duty 
and  least  of  enjoyment.  Compare  a  man  bent  on  mere  hap- 
piness, through  exemption  from  care  and  labor,  with  him  who 
is  bent  on  doing  his  duty  in  that  state  in  which  Providence 
has  placed  him.  Or  compare  the  man  of  pleasure  with  the 
man  of  high  and  generous  enterprise,  or  the  man  of  ambition 
with  him  of  pious  and  active  beneficence.  Hence  true  and 
enlightened  wisdom  will  consider,  "  If  I  devote  myself  to  seek- 
ing happiness,  I  shall  be  likely  to  miss  both  happiness  and 
duty ;  but  if  I  devote  myself  to  doing  right,  I  shall  at  once 
compass  the  right  and  the  expedient, — the  greatest  virtue  and 
the  greatest  felicity." 

In  thus  employing  the  coincidence  of  virtue  and  utility,  we 
would  guard  carefully  against  the  idea,  already  noticed,  that  we 
consider  them  as  identical,  or  that  the  one  is  the  ground  and 
reason  of  the  other.  Right  and  utility  must  have  different 
meanings,  otherwise  many  current  propositions  (such  as  "vir- 
tue is  expedient")  would  be  identical  and  unmeaning.  The 
notions  right  and  useful  must  be  essentially  distinct ;  other- 
wise it  would  be  immaterial  which  of  them  we  made  pre- 
dominant in  our  active  life,  whereas  we  have  just  seen  that  it 
is  far  from  immaterial.  The  mistake  of  confounding  virtue 
and  utility  is  the  common  one  of  mistaking  a  final  cause  for  a 
stated  antecedent  or  philosophical  cause. 

2.  We  speak  now  of  that  sentiment  which  we  term  Regard 
for  the  becoming  in  man.  Something  tending  towards  it  we 
see  in  the  sense  of  delicacy  as  between  the  sexes ;  in  the  sense 
of  propriety  and  neatness  as  to  the  person ;  in  the  sense  of 
moral  force,  which  renders  it  unworthy  of  us  to  dread  or 
complain  of  physical  evil.  The  history  of  Laura  Bridgman 
shows  that  all  these  are  instinctive,  and  I  need  hardly  in- 
sist that,  tending  as  they  do  to  strengthen  chastity,  to  in- 
spire consideration  for  the  body,  as  the  shrine  of  the  mind, 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING    TO  THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.    49/ 

and  for  the  mind  as  something  better  and  higher  than  the  ma- 
terial or  animal  economy,  they  are  auxiliary  to  Conscience. 
We  would  speak  now  of  what  we  call  the  sense  of  honor,^  and 
which  may  be  said  to  be  compounded  of  Self-Respect,  Mag- 
nanijiiitj',  and  Moral  Taste.  Its  office  is  to  distinguish  be- 
tween dignity  and  meanness, — to  point  out  what  in  actions  is 
graceful,  noble,  and  appropriate,  and  what  sordid,  mean,  and 
unbecoming.  It  acts  directly,  inspiring  us  with  a  simple  sense 
of  what  we  owe  to  ourselves.  It  acts  also  indirectly,  through 
a  supposed  impartial  spectator,  animated  by  the  same  noble- 
ness of  soul,  and  whose  judgment,  as  being  more  unbiased,  we 
use  to  rectify  our  own.  To  such  a  spectator  we  refer,  in  im- 
agination, when  we  are  in  solitude  ;  still  more  when  in  society. 
And  the  regard  we  have  to  it  will  tame  and  subdue  violent 
passions  much  more  than  considerations  merely  prudential. 
Thus,  for  instance.  Anger,  repressed  from  considerations  merely 
selfish,  is  apt  to  burst  out  with  accumulated  force;  whereas 
anger,  cooled  down  by  reflections  on  what  we  owe  to  ourselves, 
or  while  conferring  really  or  in  imagination  with  a  friend  over 
our  grievances,  is  apt  to  be  effectually  tempered  and  allayed. 
How  this  sentiment  aids  conscience  and  sets  forth  Divine 
Holiness  we  need  hardly  say. 

3.  Another  principle  or  law  of  our  nature  may  be  taken  as 
'  powerfully  auxiliary  to  Conscience.  We  refer  to  what,  at  first 
view,  seems  to  be  a  great  anomaly  in  respect  to  our  moral 
judgments.  It  is  this:  we  all  admit  that  an  agent's  char- 
acter in  any  case  is  to  be  judged  of  by  his  motives,  and  his 
action  by  its  moral  quality  determined  by  the  relations  in 
which  the  agent  is  placed.  Yet  an  agent  whose  motives  are 
most  benevolent  shall  receive  no  praise — nay  he  shall  incur 
blame — merely  because  his  benevolent  plans  have  failed;  while 

*  We  speak  not  here  of  the  conventional  sense  of  honor,  which  has  much  more 
consideration  for  what  is  required  by  the  perverted  judgment  of  those  in  our 
rank  of  life  than  for  what  is  really  due  to  us  on  any  principle  of  self-esteem  or 
any  consideration  of  the  opinion  of  the  good  and  wise. 


4o8 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


another,  whose  motives  were  innocent,  shall  be  adjudged 
criminal  for  acts  which  were  casual ;  and  a  third,  whose  mo- 
tives might  have  been  positively  bad,  shall  be  applauded,  be- 
cause the  results  of  his  actions  have  proved  auspicious  to 
himself  and  to  others.  This  has  been  ever  the  complaint  of 
virtue.  The  tragic  interest  which  invests  the  story  of  Qidipus 
and  Jocasta  turns  on  it.  It  has  been  thought  to  impeach  the 
justice  of  Providence;  yet  further  examination  and  reflection 
will  teach  us  not  only  to  acquiesce  in  the  wisdom  of  this 
law  but  to  admire  its  benignity. 

1.  For,  in  the  first  place,  success  is  the  only  available  cri- 
terion in  many  cases.  We  cannot  see  the  hearts  of  men,  and 
can  judge  of  their  intentions  only  by  their  acts.  The  act 
creates  at  least  a  presumption  in  respect  to  the  motive,  which 
must  be  rebutted  before  we  assume  another  and  a  different 
one. 

2.  This  arrangement  tends  to  chasten  that  presumptuous 
self-confidence  which  men  would  feel  if  they  could  get  glory 
for  their  mere  designs,  rather  than  for  their  achievements. 
Men,  too,  are  not  omnipotent,  and  they  should  remember  it, 
lest  pride  intoxicate  them,  and  they  miss  of  success  because 
they  do  not  dread  sufficiently  the  disgrace  of  failure. 

3.  It  constrains  men  to  that  course  of  action  which  is  no 
more  than  duty,  but  which  is  too  often  disregarded,  viz.,  not 
to  attempt  that  which  bears  no  proportion  to  their  powers, 
nor  in  any  attempt  to  neglect  the  proper  means  of  success  or 
due  diligence  and  care  in  applying  those  means.  It  is  well 
that  men  should  be  kept  from  recklessness  in  respect  to  the 
vicans  they  adopt  to  reach  even  the  best  end.  While  we  have 
no  respect  for  an  Expediency  which  would  supersede  virtue, 
we  honor  that  wise  consideration  of  consequences  which  rec- 
ognizes the  duty  of  hazarding  no  great  end  by  a  bungling 
or  intemperate  use  of  the  appropriate  means. 

4.  This  law  throws  a  kind  of  sacredness  over  the  happiness 
of  others.     As  a  soil  consecrated  in  ancient  Greece  or  Rome 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING    TO    THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.    409 

to  some  god  was  deemed  so  holy  that  intruders,  even  though 
ignorant,  were  regarded  as  criminal,*  so  we,  if  we  have  in- 
nocently and  unconsciously  been  the  occasion  of  great  harm 
to  another  (for  example,  have  taken  a  life),  should  feel  a  quali- 
fied sense  of  criminality,  and  should  not  content  ourselves  till 
we  have  made  all  possible  reparation.  Take,  for  instance,  the 
benevolent  and  malevolent  affections, — the  first  need  spurring, 
the  other,  checking.  Were  men  judged  of  by  their  intentions 
alone,  the  former  would  want  one  strong  motive  for  fulfilling 
kind  and  generous  purposes,  the  other,  a  strong  motive  to 
restrain  dangerous  passions. 

5.  And  finally,  where  the  law  does  work  hardship  and  ap- 
parent injustice,  it  serves  to  turn  our  thoughts  and  hopes 
towards  another  and  a  better  distribution  of  Rewards  and 
Punishments. 

THE   WILL   AND    THE    RELIGIOUS    SENTIMENT. 

To  complete  our  view  of  the  Moral  Constitution  of  Man,  and 
of  the  light  which  it  reflects  on  the  Moral  Character  of  the 
Deity,  we  notice  very  briefly  : 

First.  The  Will,  and 

Secondly.  The  religions  sentiment  in  Man. 

I  The  Will.  It  is  this  which  gives  us  personality,  being 
the  source  of  that  which  we  call  most  properly  our  own,  and 
in  virtue  of  which  we  possess  and  govern  ourselves  and  be- 
come responsible. 

The  Metaphysical  question,  so  often  raised  and  discussed, 
in  this  connection,  does  not  refer  to  the  freedom  of  our  actions 
but  to  the  freedom  of  our  zvills.  Volition  is  necessarily  fol- 
lowed by  the  action  decreed,  unless  a  force  ab  extra  prevent, 
in  which  case  we  are  under  a  physical,  as  distinguished  from 
Metaphysical,  Philosophical,  or  Moral  necessity.     The  real  issue 

"■■  Adam  Smith's  Moral  Sentiments,  vol.  i.  270. 


410 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


is  in  respect  to  the  connection  between  the  volition  and  the 
preceding  state  of  mind  commonly  called  motive.  On  one 
side  it  is  held  that  the  volition  is  determined  absolutely  by 
the  motive ;  on  the  other,  that  it  is  determined  absolutely  by 
the  agent.  The  truth  here  probably  lies,  as  on  other  ques- 
tions, not  far  from  the  mean.  When  a  certain  state  of  mind 
is  induced,  we  know  by  the  laws  of  Psychology  that  a  certain 
volition  will  in  all  probability  follow.  Were  it  not  so,  the 
conduct  of  mankind  would  be  regulated  by  no  rule,  and  cal- 
culation in  regard  to  it  beforehand  would  become  impossible. 
But  though  the  will  may  not  resist  a  certain  impulse  when 
once  it  is  communicated  by  our  emotions,  yet  we  can  foresee 
the  recurrence  of  those  emotions,  and  by  modifying  the  cur- 
rent of  our  thoughts,  can  either  prevent  such  recurrence  alto- 
gether or  can  greatly  reduce  its  effect  upon  the  mind.  We 
find  our  thoughts  or  footsteps  carrying  us  to  the  scene  of 
moral  danger, — may  we  not  arrest  or  turn  them  aside,  and 
thus  shun  a  temptation  which  we  might  not  be  able  to  resist? 
Our  consciousness  proclaims  that  we  can,  and  our  reason  de- 
clares that  without  such  power  the  actions  we  are  said  to 
perform  would  not  in  truth  be  ours,  but  would  be  attributable 
to  a  previous  condition  of  mind  into  which  we  had  been 
brought  by  the  fixed  and  uncontrollable  laws  of  our  nature. 
As  such  they  could  have  no  moral  character,  and  could  never 
charge  those  who  perform  them  with  the  responsibility  of 
moral  agents. 

There  is,  then,  such  a  thing  as  Moral  Liberty,  and  it  points 
distinctly  to  the  existence  of  Holiness  in  the  Deity,  because  it 
proves  that  He  has  made  man  capable  of  Holiness,  while  our 
preceding  illustration  shows  that  He  has  made  him  to  be 
holy.  Could  less  than  Holiness  in  his  own  nature  have  led 
God  to  exact  Holiness  so  imperatively  from  his  intelligent 
creatures  ? 

2.  The  religious  sentiment  in  Man.  It  leads  beyond  the 
natural  to  the  supernatural, — beyond  the  sensible  to  the  super- 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING    TO    THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.    411 

sensible, — beyond  the  changeable  and  ever  fluctuating  to  the 
Eternal, — beyond  the  human  to  the  Divine.  As  an  instinct- 
ive and  original  principle,  it  does  not  define  and  set  forth 
distinctly  its  own  object.  The  nature  and  attributes  of  the 
Divine  Being  must  be  the  subject  of  inquiry,  and  to  that  in- 
quiry both  natural  conscience  and  the  religious  sentiment 
urge  us  to  apply  our  understanding  and  reason.  The  result 
is  the  knowledge  of  a  God  who  is  from  everlasting  to  ever- 
lasting, who  is  also  holy,  just,  and  good.  As  a  Holy  Being, 
He  deserves  our  reverence.  As  a  good  and  gracious  Being, 
our  Benefactor  and  Father,  He  merits  our  gratitude ;  and  as 
possessing  these  perfections  in  infinite  measure,  directed  by  In- 
finite Wisdom,  and  operating  with  Infinite  Power,  it  follows  as 
a  clear  conviction  of  conscience  that  our  Reverence,  Adora- 
tion, and  Gratitude  should  know  no  bounds,  and  should  burn 
with  intense  and  undying  fervor.  ''Love  the  Lord  thy  God,"  is 
but  the  expression  of  that  law  which  bids  us  honor  the 
good  and  love  those  who  are  kind  to  us.  "  Love  the  Lord 
thy  God,  ivith  all  thy  mind  and  soul  and  strength"  is  but  the 
necessary  result  of  that  law,  when  connected  with  the  fact 
that  Divine  Perfections  are  boundless  as  compared  with  hu- 
man, and  should  be  the  objects  of  a  corresponding  order  and 
depth  of  adoration  and  love.  The  action  and  reaction  of  the 
moral  and  the  religious  sentiments,  with  respect  to  each  other, 
are  well  worthy  of  study.  We  touch  upon  three  phases 
merely, — {a)  when  they  co-operate,  {b)  when  there  is  dejiciency 
in  the  one  or  other  of  these  sentiments,  and  (r)  when  they 
are  antag07iistic. 

{a)  The  religious  sentiment  aids  conscience, — i.  By  prompting 
it  to  investigate  the  character  and  requirements  of  God  ;  it 
does  this  in  conjunction  with  prudence.  2.  By  giving  to  re- 
ligious duties,  which  conscience  recognizes,  an  urgency  and 
an  awful  consequence  which  they  could  not  have  if  viewed 
by  the  light  of  Reason  and  the  moral  sentiments  alone. 
These  would  tell  us  that  God  deserves  honor ;  but,  invisible 


412 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


and  inconceivable  as  that  God  is,  how  can  man  rera^er  it? 
The  religious  sentiment  meets  this  question  by  causing  us  to 
feel  the  presence  and  majesty  of  the  Invisible  One,  and  by  im- 
parting at  once  a  glow,  and  a  self-sacrificing  depth  and  force 
to  our  homage.  It  seems  to  discharge,  in  respect  to  our  re- 
ligious duties  to  God,  something  of  the  same  office  that  is 
rendered  by  a  chivalrous  sentiment  of  self-respect  and  magna- 
nimity in  regard  to  our  own  social  and  relative  duties. 

3.  To  actions  not  specifically  religious,  this  sentiment  serves 
also  to  impart  a  quasi-religious  character,  since  it  leads  us  to 
recognize  God  in  everything.  When  we  open  the  New  Testa- 
ment, we  read  that  whether  we  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  we 
do,  we  are  to  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God.  At  first  sight  this 
requirement  strikes  us  as  somewhat  strange  and  unreasona- 
ble ;  and  yet,  when  we  consider  that  God  dealeth  with  us  as 
with  children,  that  we  are  his  offspring,  living,  moving,  and 
having  our  being  in  Him,  and  indebted  to  Him  as  no  earthly 
child  can  be  to  earthly  parent,  who  does  not  recognize  the 
obligation  of  remembering  and  honoring  God  in  all  our  ways? 
A  son,  if  pious  and  ingenuous,  will  feel  that  in  acts  not  per- 
taining strictly  to  his  filial  duties  and  relations,  he  should  still 
respect  the  slightest  wish  of  his  father;  2,  he  will  also  feel 
that,  as  the  son  and  heir  of  such  a  father,  he  should  do  no- 
thing unworthy  of  the  nobleness  of  his  lineage ;  3,  that  as  a 
son,  too,  he  should,  when  acting  in  the  presence  of  men,  be 
jealous  of  his  father's  fair  fame,  and  avoid  whatever  could 
tarnish  it;  and  4,  that  to  all  sensitive  creatures  formed  by 
God,  and  objects  of  his  kind  and  unwearied  care,  our  hearts 
should  go  out  in  love  and  tenderness,  because  they  came  from 
Him  at  first,  and  are  still  his  own.  Over  and  above  what  we 
owe  to  them  as  men  or  as  animals,  we  owe  them  much  as 
creatures  of  our  Father  in  heaven.  Love  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself,  the  second  commandment  of  the  Law,  is  indeed  like 
unto  the  first:  "  He  that  loveth  God,  should  love  his  brother 
also." 


THE  SOUL    WITiIESSING   TO    THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.    413 

{p)  On  the  other  hand,  Conscience  aids  the  religions  sentiment 
by  imparting  to  acts,  strictly  religious,  a  moral  character.  It 
urges  us  not  only  to  worship,  but  to  worship  such  a  Being 
alone  as  is  worthy  of  our  adoration.  It  prompts  us  to  re- 
member the  moral  Perfections  of  God,  and  to  be  careful  lest 
we  offer  Him  oblations  which  He  must  abhor, — the  fruit  of 
fraud  or  oppression, — the  mere  homage  of  the  lip  or  of  the 
body, — voluntary  humility  and  will-worship, — a  multitude  of 
sacrifices,  but  little  of  justice,  judgment,  or  mercy. 

Observe,  here,  that  the  path  to  which  Conscience  and  the 
Religious  Sentiment  urge  us,  is  the  very  same  to  which  we 
are  pointed  and  urged  by  Prudence.  The  duties  to  which  we 
are  summoned  are  at  once  right,  holy,  and  expedient.  Thus 
in  his  goodness  has  God  accumulated  motives  for  us  to  be 
holy  as  He  is  hoi)-.  Thus  in  his  righteousness  hath  He 
hedged  us  in  with  imperative  comnr'  mds,  coming'  alike  from 
conscience,  from  the  religious  sentiment,  and  from  self-interest ; 
so  that,  if  we  obey  not,  we  are  sinners  in  a  threefold  sense 
against  our  own  souls  as  well  as  against  the  iVIost  High. 

But  what  is  the  effect  of  such  commands  and  motives  ? 
Are  men  living  as  becomes  them?  Alas!  it  has  ever  been 
the  great  complaint  of  the  wisest  and  best  of  our  race  that 
what  they  would  not  that  they  did,  and  what  they  would  that 
they  did  not.  They  have  united — the  purest  and  the  largest 
minded — in  confessing  that,  if  they  master  their  evil  appetites 
and  live  as  becometh  worthy  members  of  society,  they  have 
reason  to  own  that  it  is  "  God  that  saves  them."  A  sense  of 
moral  weakness  and  insufficiency,  a  sense,  too,  of  guilt  before 
the  pure  and  perfect  Law, — are  not  these  found  in  every  hu- 
man heart  that  attentively  considers  its  own  state  and  duty  ? 
And  this  mournful  failure,  this  sense  of  guilt,  attested  by 
every  altar  that  smokes,  and  every  priest  that  intercedes,  is 
evidence  that  we  need  more  than  natural,  even  supernatural 
strength.  That  which  the  Religion  of  Nature  cannot  supply, 
indemnity,  reparation,  remedy  for  past  delinquency,  and  guar- 


414 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


antee  against  future  dereliction,  this  must  be  supplied  by  a 
Religion  above  Nature,  by  one  that  comes  directly,  and  for 
this  express  purpose, — even  from  God. 

{c)  We  come  now  to  consider  a  few  cases  in  which  Con- 
science and  the  Religious  Sentiment  fail  to  co-operate.  What 
are  the  consequences?  The  first  effect  is  the  weakness  of 
each.  Without  a  sense  of  religion,  conscience  will,  of  course, 
urge  us  with  insufficient  power  to  the  worship  and  service  of 
God.  It  will  be  feeble,  too,  in  respect  to  our  social  and  rela- 
tive duties,  when  not  enforced  by  a  sense  of  the  Divine  Pres- 
ence and  Authority.  So,  on  the  other  hand,  without  an 
active  and  enlightened  conscience,  the  religious  sentiment  will 
exhale  in  sighs  and  poetical  visions,  in  myths  and  dreams,  or 
in  high  but  unfruitful  speculations  on  the  Philosophy  of  Re- 
ligion. 

Another  effect  will  be  seen  in  the  injury  to  the  general 
interest  of  practical  Religion  and  practical  Morality.  On  the 
one  side,  the  moralist,  who  repudiates  the  religious  sentiment, 
will  be  likely  to  repudiate  religious  duties,  restricting  mo- 
rality to  a  mere  recognition  and  discharge  of  our  relative 
obligations.  Beginning  with  a  mutilation  of  the  truth,  it  is 
but  natural  that  even  in  that  which  he  retains  his  views  should 
be  partial  and  superficial.  Recognizing  some  duties,  but  neg- 
lecting others,  and  being  more  intent  on  their  external  ap- 
pearance than  on  their  internal  character,  he  may  pay  his 
debts,  and  yet  not  spare  some  of  the  most  sacred  rights  of 
his  neighbor,  such  as  rights  of  reputation,  of  feeling,  of  virtue. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  religious  man,  neglecting  morality, 
may  do  deeds  that  angels  might  weep  over;  offering  tithe  of 
mint,  cummin,  and  anise,  but  neglecting  the  weighter  matters 
of  the  law;  hating  his  brother  while  he  is  persuaded  he  loved 
God;  full  of  wrath  and  uncharitableness,  but  thinking  it  only 
zeal  for  the  service  of  the  Most  High. 

The  malignant  power  of  the  religious  sentiment,  when  di- 
vorced from  conscience  and  leagued  with  some  of  the  inferior 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING   TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


415 


principles  of  our  nature,  may  be  seen  in  various  forms  of 
Pagan  superstition,  and  in  the  corruptions  of  the  Rehgion  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testament.  The  Rationale  of  these  corrup- 
tions, considered  in  their  origin,  may  be  seen  by  taking  three 
varieties, — («)  when  the  religion  is  the  product,  jointly,  of  the 
religious  sentiment,  of  intelligence,  and  of  sensuality ;  the  re- 
sult being  a  luxurious  and  pompous  religion,  employing  the 
lower  forms  of  art,  appealing  to  the  imagination  only  through 
sense,  repudiating  moral  instruction,  and  delegating  to  the 
priesthood  only,  rites,  pageants,  and  processions. 

[b)  When  it  is  the  product  of  the  religious  sentiment  of 
intelligence  and  of  a  more  sesthetical  spirit;  the  result  being 
a  more  contemplative  and  sentimental  worship,  allied  to  a 
higher  art,  but  inoperative  in  practice,  without  stern  purpose 
or  clear  and  commanding  instruction  in  duty. 

(<f)  When  it  is  the  product  of  the  religious  sentiment,  with 
a  large  infusion  of  the  malevolent  feelings.  The  result  is  a 
system  exacting,  sensual,  persecuting. 

Once  formed,  either  of  these,  when  accepted  by  a  tradition- 
ary faith,  may  call  in  conscience  to  uphold  and  defend  it,  and 
to  propagate  it  with  fire  and  sword. 

But  while  conscience,  operating  among  the  vulgar  and  un- 
reflecting, under  the  direction  of  an  artful  Priesthood,  may 
uphold  a  corrupt  religion,  the  same  faculty,  in  the  hearts  of 
the  more  reflecting  or  the  more  pure,  remonstrates  and  op- 
poses. The  remonstrance  may  be  silent,  but  it  is  not  wholly 
ineffectual.  Hence  the  people,  living  under  a  corrupt  Re- 
ligion, are  often  less  corrupt  than  one  might  anticipate.  Who 
would  have  expected  chaste  Lucretias  among  the  worshippers 
of  the  unchaste  Venus,  or  continent  men,  like  Xenocrates, 
among  those  who  celebrated  the  debaucheries  of  Jupiter,  or 
intrepid  Romans  among  those  who  paid  their  devotions  to  the 
goddess  of  Fear?*     It  is  the  fruit  of  conscience,  or  our  moral 


*  Rousseau. 


41 6  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

instincts    and    convictions,    protesting   against    abominations 
which  a  false  ReHgion  would  tolerate. 

The  Protest  is  not  always  silent.  When  the  corruptions 
accumulate,  and  are  such  as  to  give  a  violent  shock  to  the 
moral  sensibilities  of  men,  their  disgust  and  abhorrence  may 
find  utterance  through  some  bold  Reformer  like  Socrates, 
Arnold  of  Brescia,  Wickliff,  or  Luther.  Their  appeal  is  from 
a  corrupted  moral  and  religious  sentiment  to  the  natural  and 
ineffaceable  moral  convictions  of  men.  And  in  those  con- 
victions lies  their  strength.  Power,  Interest,  Prejudice,  Learn- 
ing may  all  be  in  array  against  them ;  but  they  have  that 
with  them  which  is  more  authoritative  than  all  these.  While 
they  plead,  the  still,  small  voice  within  the  hearts  of  those 
who  hear  pleads  also.  From  being  dormant,  or  in  league 
with  a  corrupt  religious  faith,  conscience  comes  into  line  with 
religion  pure  and  iindcfilcd,  and  the  result  is  sure  and  speedy. 
Was  it  not  so  with  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ?  He  was  a  Reformer, 
and  to  what  did  He  make  his  appeal  ?  He  was  not  religious 
enough  for  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees.  He  did  not  disfigure 
his  face  that  He  might  appear  unto  men  to  fast.  He  sounded 
no  trumpet  before  Him  when  He  gave  alms  to  the  poor. 
The  Sabbath  He  did  not  keep  according  to  their  rule,  and 
the  tithe  of  mint,  anise,  and  cummin  He  would  not  away 
with  while  justice,  judgment,  and  mercy  were  withheld.  Yet 
how  did  the  spectral  forms  of  hypocrisy  and  formalism  vanish 
from  before  Him !  How  did  the  common  people  hear  Him 
gladly!  Let  them  be  hopeful,  then,  who  plead  for  the  right,-^ 
who,  in  challenging  homage  for  God,  show  that  He  is  a 
holy,  sin-hating  God.  But  let  them  fear  if  the  attempt  be  to 
sustain  a  Religion  which  tolerates  immorality.  They  thereby 
array  against  themselves  a  power  which  will  one  day  consign 
it,  with  all  its  pomp  and  pride,  to  the  contempt  and  detestation 
of  men. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  SOUL   WITNESSING  TO  THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 

Continued. 

HITHERTO  we  have  considered  only  the  moral  constitu- 
tion of  man.  We  propose  now  to  consider  the  xvJiole 
mind,  with  special  reference  to  the  light  which  it  casts  on 
the  moral  character  of  God,  and  on  our  own  duty  and  wel- 
fare. 

The  human  mind  exhibits  various  powers  and  susceptibili- 
ties, which  seem  to  be  so  far  independent  of  each  other  that 
one  can  be  inactive  or  diseased  while  the  others  are  in  healthy 
action.  With  the  control  of  all  these  powers  we  have  been 
charged,  and  also  with  the  duty  of  so  regulating,  developing, 
and  improving  them  that  we  shall  attain  the  utmost  possible 
excellence.  This  duty  is  too  little  considered,  and  it  is  due 
to  the  ancient  philosophers  to  say  that  in  many  of  their  spec- 
ulations respecting  the  chief  good,  the  harmony  of  the  son  I,  etc., 
they  exhibited  larger  and  juster  views  than  most  modern 
writers.  Bishop  Butler,  in  his  Sermons  on  Human  Nature, 
and  in  the  Preface  to  them,  has  shown  that  he  apprehended 
more  clearly  the  terms  and  importance  of  this  Ethical  problem. 

There  are  four  principal  powers  or  elements  in  the  Human 
Soul: — I.  The  Spiritual,  including  the  Moral  and  Religious. 
2.  The  Intellectnal,  including  Reason  and  Understanding.  3. 
The  Will.  4.  The  Sensitive  or  Emotional  element.  We  have 
already  intimated  what  we  conceive  to  be  their  respective 
functions  —  the  first,  being  supreme  and  authoritative;  the 
second,  informing  and  advising;  the  third,  imperative  and 
executive ;  the  fourth,  motive  or  impulsive  powers. 

27  (417) 


4i8 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


That  we  do  not  err  in  assigning  pre-eminence  and  sovereignty 
to  the  moral  and  spiritual  in  man,  will  be  evident  not  only 
from  what  we  have  previously  said  of  the  supremacy  of  con- 
science, but  also  from  the  following,  among  other  consider- 
ations : 

[a)  The  insufficiency  of  all  other  principles  to  the  control  and 
direction  of  the  soul,  without  hurting  it.  The  passions  are 
blind  and  reckless  if  left  to  themselves.  When  combined  with 
intelligence  and  reflection  only,  they  generally  use  them  to 
secure  gratification  for  one  or  two  master  appetites,  through 
which  their  possessor  (at  once  possessor  and  slave)  is  driven 
to  sin  and  misery.  Even  the  most  enlightened  self-love  proves 
inadequate,  from  its  narrow  views  of  what  constitutes  true 
mental  welfare,  and  from  the  insidious  tendency  it  manifests 
towards  a  sordid  spirit. 

[b)  The  unanimous  judgments  of  mankind  in  regard  to  cer- 
tain men  whose  names  are  famous  in  history,  and  their  divided 
judgments  in  regard  to  others.  All  mankind  are  unanimous 
in  admiring,  and  not  only  in  admiring,  but  also  in  venerating, 
the  names  of  Washington  and  Alfred  the  Great.  They  are 
not  less  unanimous  in  execrating  the  memory  of  a  Caesar 
Borgia  or  a  Catiline.  In  respect  to  Oliver  Cromwell  and 
Queen  Elizabeth,  they  are  divided,  and  the  reason  is,  that,  in 
the  first  and  second  cases,  there  is  certainty  as  to  what  was 
the  predominating  motive  and  spirit  of  the  actor.  Had  there 
been  a  doubt  in  respect  to  the  incorruptible  integrity,  the 
true  public  spirit,  of  Washington,  his  name  would  not  have 
so  served  in  every  heart  as  the  watchword  of  true  greatness. 
Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  true  character  of  a  Borgia  or  a 
Catiline  were  doubtful,  would  they  be  the  objects  of  such 
universal  and  unmitigated  abhorrence.  These  instinctive  and 
unanimous  judgments,  coming  up  from  the  depths  of  men's 
hearts,  proclaim  how  unavoidable  is  our  conviction  that  the 
moral  and  religious  in  man  should  be  paramount  not  only  in 
name  but  in  fact. 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING   TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.    41Q 

{c)  The  consideration  of  the  mind,  as  an  instrument  for  the 
attainment  of  certain  ends.  If  we  can  show  that  its  instru- 
mental efficiency  will,  in  each  case,  be  increased  in  proportion 
as  the  spiritual  and  moral  power  is  allowed  to  preside  and 
give  constant  direction  to  its  efforts,  we  shall  have  the  strongest 
evidence  that  man  was  made  pre-eminently  for  duty,  and  that 
his  moral  nature  demonstrates,  in  the  most  impressive  manner, 
the  Holiness  of  his  Creator.  We  select  four  ends  as  legitimate 
in  themselves,  and  as  those  to  which  we  may  suppose  the  ener- 
gies of  the  soul  to  be  directed  : — i.  The  attainment  to  a  per- 
fect Humanity.  2.  Material  welfare.  3.  Litellectual  excellence. 
4.  ^sthetical  excellence. 

I.  To  attain  to  ih.Q  perfection  of  hujnanity,  we  must  give  pre- 
eminence to  the  claims  of  Morality  and  Religion, — i.e.  the  first 
question  must  be,  what  is  duty?  and  the  will,  enlightened  by 
reason  and  directed  by  conscience,  must  enforce,  promptly  and 
imperatively,  what  duty  claims.  We  are  so  constituted  that 
we  cannot  but  demand  the  beautiful  and  perfect  in  human 
character  as  well  as  in  Nature  and  Art.  We  are  urged  by  an 
inward  impulse  to  construct  the  conception  of  the  perfect  man, 
and  to  strive  perseveringly  in  our  own  persons  after  a  corre- 
sponding Reality.  The  ancients,  especially  in  Greece,  were  pos- 
sessed with  this  idea,  and  in  the  Republic  of  Plato  we  have 
his  views  of  the  humanly  perfect,  both  as  it  respects  the  indi- 
vidual and  the  state.  His  good  man,  with  a  nature  duly  de- 
veloped and  wisely  ordered,  is  a  man  who  "  fears  nothing  that 
ought  not  to  be  feared,  but  fears  whatever  is  deserving  of  fear." 
His  great  excellence  lies  in  an  ititernal  spiritual  force,  which  is 
at  once  the  fruit  of  past  triumphs  over  evil  and  the  guarantee  of 
like  triumphs,  and  nobler  ones  still  to  come.  He  describes 
four  moral  states,  through  which  the  souls  of  most  men  pass 
before  they  reach  the  stature  of  a  perfect  humanity: — i.  Li- 
centious self-will.  2.  A  conflict  in  the  soul  between  good  and 
evil,  in  which  the  evil  triumphs.     3.  A  like  conflict,  in  which 


420  ^-^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

the  victory  passes  to  the  side  of  good.     4.  The  triumph  finally 
and  completely  won. 

So  with  Aristotle.  His  Ethical  writings  are  almost  exclu- 
sively occupied  with  the  problem,  "  What  is  virttie?"  or,  in 
other  words.  Who  is  the  model  man  ?  His  definitions,  "Virtue 
is  the  harmony  of  the  soul,"  "  Virtue  is  mediocrity,"  like  Plato's 
disquisitions,  proceed  on  the  idea  that  the  perfection  of  hu- 
manity implies  the  ascendency  of  the  moral  clement  in  our 
nature,  gained  through  struggle  with  temptation  and  difficulty. 
ThQ  golden  mean,  where  virtue  dwells,  is  not  self-evident;  nor 
is  it  to  be  attained  without  effort  and  self-denial.  It  is  not 
equidistant  from  the  two  extremes,  as  in  Geometry,  but  is  to 
be  found  by  inquiry  and  trial,  varying  for  different  individuals, 
and  to  be  maintained  only  through  perpetual  vigilance  and 
assiduity.  Here,  then,  are  sages  who  wrote  without  Revela- 
tion, without  the  enlarged  experience  of  humanity  which  we 
enjoy,  and  yet  how  clearly  did  they  discern  the  truth  for  which 
we  contend!  —  that  perfection  is  possible  only  for  those  who 
listened  first  to  the  voice  of  duty,  and  whose  highest  ambition 
it  is  to  become  perfect  as  God  is  perfect,  by  becoming  holy  as 
He  is  holy. 

The  same  conclusion  will  be  forced  upon  us  if  we  compare 
such  characters  as  Hume  and  Chalmers,  Napoleon  and  St. 
Paul,  Socrates  and  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  The  qualified  appro- 
bation or  positive  disapprobation  which  we  extend  in  the  one 
case,  and  the  profound  reverence  and  cordial  admiration  which 
we  bestow  in  the  other,  prove  that  the  good  only  are  truly 
great,  and  that  there  can  be  no  complete  and  perfect  character 
without  the  ascendency  of  moral  principle. 

2.  Another  end  towards  which  the  energies  of  our  nature 
may  be  directed  is,  the  promotion  of  material  interests  by  the 
acquisition  and  wise  use  of  property.  Under  no  circumstances 
will  this  be  done  so  rapidly  and  effectively  as  when  the  sense 
of  moral  obligation  is  paramount.     The  individual  accumu- 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING    TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.    43 1 

lates  fast  in  proportion  as  he  is  industrious,  intelligent,  fore- 
casting, and  upright ;  and  to  cultivate  every  one  of  these 
qualities  an  active  sense  of  duty  is  the  surest  incentive.  And 
that  which  he  accumulates  the  good  man  is  less  likely  than 
others  to  waste  in  self-indulgence  or  lose  through  improvi- 
dence,—  because  (i)  he  is  frugal  from  principle;  because 
(2),  as  a  steward,  he  feels  bound  to  render  his  property  repro- 
ductive, so  that  his  own  capital  and  that  of  society  shall  be 
enlarged ;  and  because  (3)  he  finds  in  the  possession  and  wise 
and  generous  use  of  property  one  of  the  best  means  of  serving 
God  and  man. 

Another  reason  why  the  supremacy  of  the  moral  sentiments 
promotes  the  maximum  production  of  wealth  is,  that  it  en- 
ables men  to  co-operate  as  capitalists  and  laborers  with  entire 
confidence  in  each  other,  and  in  a  spirit  of  mutual  forbearance 
and  assistance.  It  secures,  also,  the  substitution  of  productive 
for  unproductive  investments,  and  of  cheap  and  refined  amuse- 
ments for  those  which  are  at  once  more  coarse  and  more  ex- 
pensive. It  prevents  the  vices  which  are  such  fruitful  sources 
of  poverty,  and  places  under  the  ban  employments  which,  by 
ministering  to  those  vices,  sap  the  foundations  of  a  nation's 
material  prosperity.  It  would  secure,  also,  that  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  property  employers  and  employed  would  cling  alike 
to  the  golden  rules  of  justice  and  reciprocity,  and  thus  secure 
that  their  joint  earnings  shall  contribute  to  the  greatest  happi- 
ness of  all.  In  one  word,  were  all  men  conscientious,  truly 
and  intelligently  so,  the  production  of  wealth,  and  its  result- 
ing benefits,  would  at  once  be  increased  tenfold.  While,  on 
the  other  hand,  were  all  destitute  of  moral  principle,  individual 
effort  would  be  reduced  to  its  minimum,  and  associated  effort 
become  all  but  impossible. 

3.  A  third  end  to  which  the  power  of  man's  soul  may  be 
applied  is  the  cultivation  of  the  intellect,  both  by  improving  its 
powers  and  by  enlarging  the  bounds  of  its  knowledge.   Other 


^22  ^-^^-^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

things  being  equal,  this  end  will  be  compassed  most  certainly 
by  those  who  prefer  duty  before  fame,  pleasure,  or  wealth. 
For,  I,  they  are  the  persons  who  are  impelled  by  the  most 
effective  motives,  such  as  a  love  of  truth  for  its  own  sake,  and 
a  sense  of  responsibility  for  the  use  of  time,  talent,  and  oppor- 
tunity. 2.  They  have  the  best  means  and  appliances  for  the 
discovery  of  truth  and  the  improvement  of  all  their  mental 
powers,  since  they  are  most  docile  and  candid.  3.  They  are 
best  secured  against  great  errors,  since  they  are  neither  too 
confident  of  their  own  sagacity  nor  too  distrustful  of  it, 
neither  too  much  bent  on  self-aggrandizement,  nor  too  much 
debased  by  sensual  desire,  nor  too  much  addicted  to  malevo- 
lent or  misanthropic  feelings.  4.  They  are,  also,  best  prepared 
to  encounter  difficulties  in  searching  after  truth,  since  they  are 
patient  and  industrious,  and  since,  also,  their  moral  worth  in- 
sures to  them  the  largest  measure  of  assistance  from  those 
best  qualified  to  afford  it. 

4.  The  same  principle  holds  true  of  (esthetic  ailtiire, — that 
which  aims  at  the  development  and  agreeable  exercise  of  taste 
and  Imagination, — whether  we  aspire  to  be  masters  in  the 
liberal  arts,  as  painters,  sculptors,  poets,  wits ;  or  whether  it 
be  simply  our  ambition  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  the  beauties 
of  Nature  and  Art;  in  either  case  a  delicate,  moral  sense,  and 
a  conscience  sovereign  over  all  the  mandates  of  passion  and 
prejudice  and  sordid  ambition,  is  almost  indispensable  to  the 
highest  culture.  It  is  so,  because  without  it  we  shall  want 
the  high  inspiration  and  the  delicate  perception  which  come 
only  from  the  love  of  goodness.  We  shall  want  elevation  of 
taste  and  sympathy.  We  shall  want  large  and  loving  hearts. 
We  shall  want  a  relish  for  true  simplicity.  We  shall  want 
dominion  over  those  passions  which  pervert  the  taste  and  ob- 
scure the  judgment.  We  shall  want  the  paramount  love  for 
truth  and  nature,  which  is  the  only  safe  guide  in  questions  of 
taste;  and  as  creators  in  the  world  of  art,  we  shall  never  burn 


THE  SOUL    WITNESSING   TO   THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD.     423 

with  that  fire  of  great  emotions  and  lofty  moral  aspirations 
which  belongs  pre-eminently  to  the  pure  in  heart,  and  which 
exert,  when  duly  expressed,  such  dominion  over  the  souls  of 
men.  "  The  good  man  alone  can  be  a  true  orator,"  was  a 
favorite  saying  of  the  ancients.  It  is  a  truth  which  applies 
equally  to  all  the  arts  that  speak  to  the  taste,  imagination,  or 
better  passions  of  our  nature,  and  it  applies,  also,  to  those 
who  would  have  a  true  and  perfect  taste  for  beauty,  and  de- 
rive from  it  the  highest  and  most  exquisite  pleasure. 


BOOK  III. 

THE  SOUL  A  WITNESS  TO  ITS  OWN  DESTINY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

IMMORTALITY. 


IN  the  last  Book  we  dwelt  on  the  Psychological  argument, 
so  far  as  it  went,  to  illustrate  the  Being  and  character  of 
God.  We  insisted,  particularly,  on  the  moral  part  of  our  con- 
stitution, because  that  points  most  distinctly  to  a  correspond- 
ing though  infinitely  more  perfect  moral  character  in  God ; 
and  we  dwelt  the  longer  upon  the  moral  attributes  of  the 
Deity,  because  we  desired  to  vindicate  Natural  Theology  from 
the  reproach  often  cast  upon  it  of  being  mute  respecting  them. 
As  taught  in  too  many  printed  books,  it  is  so  ;  but  as  set  forth 
in  the  great  Book  of  Man's  Nature,  it  is  everywhere  rich  in 
such  instructions  ;  and  we  have  had  occasion  to  intimate  here- 
tofore* that  even  physical  laws  are  so  constituted  as  to  show 
that  their  Author  must  be  on  the  side  of  right. 

Thus  far  we  have  used  the  Nature  of  Man  mainly  in  order 
to  study  God.  We  propose  now  to  employ  it  in  exploring 
the  spiritual  condition  and  prospects  of  Man  himself  We 
might  reason  from  the  ascertained  character  of  God  to  what 
would  be  his  probable  purpose  in  respect  to  the  destiny  of  his 
intelligent  and  moral  creatures  ;  but  such  inferences  arc  often 
hazardous,  because  (i)  they  assume,  on  our  part,  more  knowl- 
edge than  we  possess,  and  are  thus  likely  to  land  us  in  err  i- 

*  Part  i.  chap,  iii.;  Part  ii.  Book  i. 
C424) 


THE   SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO  ITS   OWN  DESTINY.      ^2" 

neous  as  well  as  rash  conclusions ;  and  because  (2)  any  fallacy 
vitiating  our  reasoning  is  apt  to  shake  our  faith  in  the  whole 
superstructure  of  religious  doctrine. 

In  treating  such  a  subject,  it  is  important,  moreover,  to  mul- 
tiply independent  sources  of  proof,  so  that,  though  one  should 
seem  to  fail,  we  may  still  have  others  in  reserve. 

It  is  important  to  remember,  too,  that  our  object,  in  this 
part  of  the  discussion,  is  not  so  much  to  establish  by  proof 
the  leading  doctrines  of  Religion,  as  to  show  that  man  is  so 
constituted  that  faith  in  them  is  natural,  and  almost  necessary. 
When  announced  in  the  Bible,  or  elsewhere,  they  speak  no 
strange  language,  but  one  the  rudiments  of  which  have  been 
partly  learned  in  that  school  of  mental  development  through 
which  every  human  being  is  called  to  pass  during  the  earlier 
years  of  his  mortal  pilgrimage. 

It  is  important,  also,  neither  to  underrate  nor  overrate  the 
natural  as  distinguished  from  the  supernatural  Revelation  of 
God.  To  underrate  that  Revelation  which  He  makes  re- 
specting our  state  and  prospects,  through  his  works,  and  es- 
pecially through  man's  constitution,  is  to  disqualify  ourselves 
from  comprehending  fully  or  appreciating  properly  the  dis- 
closures made  in  the  Bible.  Such  a  knowledge  of  morality  and 
Natural  Religion  as  we  get  from  a  candid  and  thoughtful  con- 
sideration of  our  human  nature,  is  a  key  to  a  clearer  and  more 
enlarged  comprehension  of  many  passages  in  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  a  knowledge  of 
the  sublime  truths  taught  in  the  Christian  Scriptures  must 
enable  us  to  discern  a  meaning  and  significance  in  many  a 
natural  law,  which  might  otherwise  seem  destitute  of  all  re- 
ligious interest.  It  is  as  if  two  letters  had  been  written  to  us 
by  a  friend,  the  one  in  common  characters,  the  other  in  cipher  or 
in  phonographic  characters  ;  or  the  one  in  a  clear,  bold,  round 
hand,  the  other  in  an  all  but  illegible  scrawl.  We  should  not 
wholly  neglect  the  latter  because  the  former  was  so  much 
more   legible.     Each  would  assist  us  in  understanding  the 


426  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

other,  or  at  least  in  extending  and  perfecting  our  notions  of 
Him  from  whom  both  proceeded. 

There  are  four  problems  which  touch  man's  rehgious  con- 
dition and  prospects,  which  may  be  indicated  by  four  words, — 
Immortality,  Retribution,  Discipline,  Redeniption. 

THE    PROBLEM    OF    IMMORTALITY. 

We  propose  to  take  up,  first,  the  problem  of  man's  Future 
beyond  this  life,  respecting  which  there  are  two  distinct  ques- 
tions: —  1st.  Is  there  a  future  after  death,  or  does  the  dissolu- 
tion of  this  body  involve  the  extinction  of  the  mental  powers? 
2d.  If  there  be  such  a  future,  is  it  one  of  conscious  person- 
ality, or  one  in  which  we  exist  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness 
or  semi-consciousness,  or  one  in  which  we  return  back  to  the 
Universal  Spirit?  In  discussing  these  questions,  we  make  as 
few  assumptions  as  possible.  We  assume  no  God,  no  imma- 
teriality of  the  soul ;  though  we  might  jusMy  claim  both.  If 
it  be  chance  that  has  brought  us  into  this  world,  chance  also, 
as  Addison  remarks,  may  cast  us  upon  another.  And  he  who 
has  followed  us  in  our  physiological  arguments  will  not  doubt 
that  we  hold  to  the  existence  of  an  immaterial  principle  in 
man,  indicated  even  by  his  bodily  structure  and  functions. 
But  the  future  existence  of  man  depends  not  on  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  soul :  it  depends  simply  on  the  will  of  God.  We 
appeal,  then,  to 

The  all  but  universal  belief  that  death,  i^istead  of  being  the 
end  of  man,  usJiers  him  into  another  sphere  of  conscious  existence. 
We  acknowledge  that  by  some  philosophers  this  belief  has 
been  disowned ;  but  it  would  be  difficult  to  show  that  they 
were  not  actuated  by  a  desire  to  keep  aloof  from  the  vulgar 
in  their  opinions  and  actions,  rather  than  by  a  sincere  and 
manly  regard  for  the  truth.  We  acknowledge,  again,  that  this 
belief  has  been  sadly  caricatured  and  disfigured  in  the  my- 
thologies of  most  pagan   nations;  but  these  disfigurements 


THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS   TO  ITS   OWN  DESTINY.      427 

are  the  growth  of  later,  less  simple,  and  less  earnest  times, 
while,  at  the  beginning,  that  faith  was  purer  and  more  correct. 
We  acknowledge,  further,  that  the  reasons  for  this  belief  often 
assigned  among  the  ancients  were  insufficient.  All  this  only- 
renders  the  fact  in  question,  if  it  be  a  fact,  the  more  striking 
and  conclusive. 

That  this  belief  in  a  Future  Life  has  been  ever  and  every- 
where all  but  universal,  is  clear,  when  we  consider, — ist,  that 
at  this  moment  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  any  tribe  or  nation, 
however  degraded,  is  entirely  destitute  of  it;  and  degraded 
savages,  moreover,  afford  no  proper  criterion  of  what  is  the 
average  apprehension  of  mankind.  And  2d.  That  Warbur- 
ton,  whose  interest  it  was  to  discover  unbelievers,  could  find 
none,  except  a  few  philosophers,  and  one  people,  the  Jews, 
who  on  this  subject  were  kept  in  darkness  (according  to  him) 
by  supernatui-al  means. 

The  fact  of  this  belief  (with  such  exceptions  only  as  go  to 
strengthen  its  authority)  being  established,  we  must  refer  it  to 
one  oi  four  causes: — (a)  To  an  instinctive  or  intuitive  recog- 
nition of  a  great  and  most  important  truth.  There  are  pri- 
mary and  intuitive  beliefs  (such  as  the  belief  in  our  own  ex- 
istence, in  the  existence  of  an  outward  world,  causation,  etc.), 
which  we  may  as  well  accept  as  natural  and  necessary,  since 
they  seem  to  be  actually  required  at  every  turn  in  life ;  and 
since,  moreover,  attempts  to '  give  them  a  valid  a  priori  de- 
monstration have  not  as  yet  proved  successful ;  and,  when 
unsuccessful,  the  reaction  against  the  faith,  thus  unwisely  and 
inadequately  upheld,  is  apt  to  be  proportionately  violent. 

If  it  be  an  original  and  instinctive  belief,  it  presupposes  the 
existence  of  its  object,  as  is  the  case  with  other  primary  beliefs 
and  instincts. 

{b)  Or,  in  the  next  place,  we  may  refer  this  universal  faith 
in  an  after-life  to  Tradition,  which  must  have  been  Divine  or 
Human.  If  Divine,  the  question  is  settled  at  once  upon  the 
highest  possible  authority.     If  human,  the  question  arises,  how 


428  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

could  such  a  tradition  spring  up,  unless  it  represented  some 
great  and  at  least  partially-recognized  truth  ?  or,  having  risen, 
how  could  it  live  on  from  age  to  age  (and  especially  in  the 
midst  of  corruptions  and  absurdities  so  revolting  as  those 
which  deformed  Pagan  Mythologies),  unless  it  appealed  to 
sentiments  in  the  human  soul  alike  powerful  and  indestructi- 
ble? Traditions  that  survive  and  travel  down  through  many 
generations,  must  derive  their  power  from  the  precision  with 
which  they  correspond  to  the  natural  sentiments  of  the  human 
mind. 

ic)  The  same  reasons  apply  to  the  hypothesis  that  this  be- 
lief originated  with  Philosophers,  Priests,  and  Legislators,  who 
would  keep  the  vulgar  in'  order  by  keeping  them  in  awe.  The 
all-sufficient  answer  to  this  theory  is,  that  those  who  would 
sway  mankind  do  not  attempt  to  create  new  principles  and 
sentiments  in  the  souls  of  men.  Legislators,  however  bent 
on  moulding  a  nation's  mind  to  their  own  purposes,  have  un- 
dertaken nothing  more  than  to  give  undue  development, 
monstrous  disproportion  to  some  one  pre-existent  principle  or 
faculty.  They  take  man  as  they  find  him,  and  the  fact  that 
they  deem  it  necessary  to  employ  this  belief  and  find  it  a 
most  potent  and  all-controlling  one,  only  demonstrates  how 
deep  a  hold  it  has  on  our  primary  convictions. 

{d)  And  so  with  Literature.  Some  persons  profess  to  look 
on  the  idea  of  a  future  life  as  part  of  the  machinery  created 
by  the  Poet  and  the  Dramatist.  It  is,  indeed,  machinery,  but 
not  of  the  Poet's  making.  He  found  it  made  to  his  hands ; 
and  the  fact  that  he  cannot  dispense  with  it,  that  to  strike  out 
from  the  creations  of  his  genius  faith  in  Immortality,  would 
be  to  strike  out  much  of  their  essential  odor  and  flavor, — one 
of  the  grandest  elements  of  their  power, — does  not  this  prove 
that  this  faith  must  have  place  among  or  near  the  original 
sentiments  of  the  human  heart?  And  the  fact,  too,  that 
when  in  his  noblest  moods  he  draws  most  largely  on  this 
sentiment,  that  these  are  the  utterances  of  the  soul  when  it  is 


THE   SOUL   A    WITNESS    TO   ITS   OWN  DESTINY. 


429 


most  moved,  or  most  exalted,  or  most  enlightened, — does  not 
this  show  that  this  belief  is  most  congenial  to  the  soul  in  its 
best  estate  ?  "  Common  Sense,"  says  Guizot,  "  is  the  genius 
of  humanity."  Taken  in  its  highest  import,  it  represents  the 
conceptions  and  conclusions  which  masses  of  men  reach,  and 
reach,  sometimes,  with  such  mysterious  and  marvellous  rapidity 
and  accuracy.  Through  sympathy  in  a  common  subject,  stim- 
ulating each  individual  mind  and  heart  and  rousing  the  im- 
agination, affections,  and  the  whole  moral  nature;  and  through 
these  constraining  the  intellectual  powers  to  a  preternatural 
activity,  the  collective  mind  here  of  a  crowded  assembly,  there 
of  a  large  popular  mass  ;  now  in  a  city  all  engrossed  with  one 
common  and  absorbing  thought,  there  in  a  nation  at  some 
eventful  crisis  of  its  history  (a  battle  or  a  revolution) ;  under 
such  circumstances  collective  mind  leaps  to  truths  and  convic- 
tions with  almost  intuitional  quickness.  It  is  the  poet's  or  ora- 
tor's province  to  catch  these  gleams  that  flash  from  the  heart  of 
our  common  humanity  and  give  them  appropriate  expression. 
Or,  where  that  heart  has  not  been  actually  thus  taxed,  it  is 
the  poet's  province  to  conceive  and  create,  through  his  won- 
der-working powers,  the  crisis  for  himself,  and  then  cause  it 
to  speak  in  fitting  language  to  those  who  hear  or  read. 

We  see,  then,  how  men  are  projected,  as  it  were,  on  this 
faith  in  an  after-life  ;  we  see  how  they  are  predisposed  to  wel- 
come Revelations  that  have  respect  to  it,  and  how  needful  it 
was  that  a  special  Revelation  should  come  to  rectify  false  no- 
tions too  readily  imbibed  under  the  influence  of  such  predis- 
posing influences.  In  proportion  as  a  sentiment  is  active  and 
deep  seated,  it  is  liable  to  be  perverted  in  times  of  ignorance 
and  corruption. 

We  are  inquiring  what  indications  of  a  future  life  can  be 
found  in  our  own  mixed  nature.  We  have  not  undertaken  to 
decide  whether  the  prevailing  belief  in  it,  which  has  obtained 
even  in  nations  who  have  no  written  Revelation,  be  or  be  not 


430  ^^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

subjective  in  its  origin;  whether  it  be  the  result  of  positive 
Divine  teaching  from  without,  or  of  intuitions  and  instincts 
implanted  by  the  Creator  within.  On  either  hypothesis,  the 
readiness  and  eagerness  with  which  the  belief  is  seized  upon, 
and  the  tenacity  with  which  it  is  maintained,  in  spite  of  all 
perversions  and  corruptions,  prove  that  it  is  a  doctrine  most 
congenial  to  man's  nature. 

We  propose  now  to  point  to  some  of  the  principles  in  man's 
constitution  which  seem  to  indicate  distinctly  a  "  Life  be- 
yond life,"  and  which  may  have  occasioned  the  prevailing 
expectations  of  it  just  noticed.  If  they  are  not  its  source, 
they  must,  at  least,  have  contributed  greatly  to  uphold,  pre- 
serve, and  strengthen  it.     What  are  they? 

At  present  we  notice  only  those  which  may  be  regarded 
as  independent  of  conscience.  The  moral  principles  in  our 
nature,  which  foreshadow  the  life  to  come,  will  have  their 
place  more  appropriately  when  we  come  to  discuss  the  Re- 
tributions which  that  life  will  bring  with  it. 

We  notice  .f^z^^w  elementary  principles,  or  laws  of  belief, 
which  point  towards  this  after-life.  Their  value,  in  this  con- 
nection, will  be  more  apparent  if  we  compare  the  primary 
conceptions  and  intuitions  which  they  supply  with  the  results 
of  experience  and  of  scientific  investigation. 

I .  The  first  of  these  principles  is  an  instinctive  belief  in  the 
constancy  and  uniformity  of  Nature,  which  comprehends  an 
intuitive  assurance  that  objects  now  existing  will  continue  to 
exist,  and  that  their  essential  properties  will  remain  unchanged. 
We  ask  attention  to  this  assurance,  as  bearing  on  the  question 
now  before  us.  That  being  called  myself  (self-conscious, 
free,  intelligent,  active)  exists ;  an  irrepressible  consciousness 
teaches  that  much,  and  an  irrepressible  primary  belief  teaches, 
further,  that  our  existing  now  is  a  guarantee  that  we  shall 
continue  to  exist  to-morrow,  next  week,  next  year,  and  for- 
ever, unless  it  can  be  demonstrated  that  there  is  some  cause 
able  to  effect  our  destruction,  and  likely  to  be  employed  for 


THE   SOUL  A    WITNESS    TO   ITS   OWN  DESTINY.      a-^j 

that  purpose.  Is  Death  such  a  cause  ?  Is  it  known,  or  can 
it  be  proved,  that  its  action  involves  more  than  the  disappear- 
ance of  those  powers  which  we  call  ourselves  ?  But  the  dis- 
appearance of  an  object  by  no  means  proves  its  annihilation. 
It  would  not  prove  this  even  of  a  visible  and  compound  ma- 
terial substance.  For  instance,  the  water  in  the  tumbler  before 
me  disappears  as  vapor,  but  it  still  exists ;  exists,  too,  as 
water,  altered,  indeed,  in  form,  but  ready,  through  a  change 
of  temperature,  to  return  back  at  any  moment  to  its  liquid 
state. 

That,  however,  which  we  call  a  person  is  never  visible,  nor 
is  it  a  compound  substance.  It  only  manifests  its  power  and 
existence  through  visible  and  tangible  organs.  These  are  no 
essential  part  of  that  which  makes  up  the  self-conscious,  self- 
determining,  and  forecasting  power  that  we  call  soul  or  mind. 
They  are  merely  its  instruments,  and  if  they  no  longer  make 
it  known  to  us,  is  it  not  more  rational  to  conclude  that  the 
fault  is  in  the  organ,  or  medium,  rather  than  in  the  active 
percipient  power  ?  How  is  it  in  sleep  ?  how  in  a  swoon  ?  In 
the  former,  the  voluntary  or  animal  powers  no  longer  act.  In 
the  latter,  all  visible  action,  whether  voluntary  or  involuntary, 
is  suspended.  Therefoi'e  the  soul  no  longer  manifests  itself 
Yet  it  still  exists,  as  we  know.  If,  then,  it  can  survive  a  sus- 
pension of  these  powers,  continued  in  some  cases  for  a  very 
long  period,  why  may  it  not  survive  the  final  cessation  of 
their  activity? 

If  it  should  be  objected  that  this  argument  applies  to  the 
vital  power  as  well  as  to  the  sentient  personal  power,  we  ad- 
mit it.  Who  knows  but  the  vital  principle,  called  life,  may 
outlast  the  organism  it  has  built  up  and  animated?  Its  ex- 
tinction, however,  would  not  necessarily  involve  that  of  the 
soul,  for  we  know  that  they  can  exist  apart.  At  least  life  (as 
in  vegetables)  can  exist  apart  from  and  independent  of  mind, 
and  why  should  not  mind,  the  better  and  nobler  power,  assert 
its  independence  also  by  subsisting  apart  from  life  ? 


4^2  ^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

2.  Consider,  also,  the  deep  conviction  we  all  have  that  that 
which  we  call  ourselves,  our  personal  being,  is  a  simple 
substance,  absolutely  one  and  indivisible.  There  is  unity  of 
person  with  a  plurality  of  faculties  and  organs.  But  if  this  be 
so,  its  destruction  at  death  is  most  improbable,  since  death 
involves  the  destruction  or  annihilation  of  nothing  even  in  the 
body.  It  merely  involves  the  dissolution  or  decomposition 
of  the  organs ;  the  matter  composing  those  organs  remains ; 
not  a  particle  of  it  has  perished.  In  the  material  world  an- 
nihilation is  unknown.  If  the  soul,  then,  were  material,  and 
yet  simple,  all  analogy  would  negative  the  idea  of  its  being 
destroyed,  any  more  than  other  simple  bodies  pertaining  to 
our  structure.  If  it  be  immaterial,  there  is  still  less  ground 
for  such  apprehension.  Has  annihilation  been  excluded  from 
the  lower  world  to  reign  and  riot  in  the  higher?  Consider  our 
deep  conviction  that,  amid  all  the  changes,  material,  organic, 
intellectual,  and  moral,  which  we  undergo,  from  our  birth  to 
our  death,  our  personal  identity  remains.  We  are  the  same 
persons  that  uttered  helpless  cries  in  infancy,  that  were  then 
little  more  than  a  span  long,  that  knew  nothing,  loved  no- 
thing, regarded  nothing.  Through  what  vast  and  all  but 
incredible  changes  have  we  since  passed,  in  respect  to  the 
matter  of  which  our  organs  are  composed ;  the  state  of  those 
organs  as  to  health,  strength,  comeliness,  the  amount  of  our 
intellectual  capacity,  and  our  moral  resources !  Who,  but  for 
the  irrepressible  voice  of  consciousness,  would  not  say  that 
we  must  have  been,  successively,  many  separate  independent 
beings ;  and  if  our  personality  has  been  able  to  withstand 
changes  so  many  and  so  great,  is  it  not  likely  that  it  may 
survive  others  probably  no  greater  ?  Who  can  suppose  that 
a  Newton,  in  passing  through  the  grave  and  gate  of  death  to 
another  life  (if  there  be  such  a  life),  experiences  a  change 
equal  to  the  sum  of  all  those  through  which  he  had  passed 
already  on  his  way  from  his  cradle  to  his  tomb ! 

And  there  are  other  analogous  facts.     Our  consciousness 


THE   SOUL   A    WITNESS    TO   ITS   OWN  DESTINY.      40^ 

tells  US  that  when  embryos  in  the  womb  we  were  essentially 
the  same  persons  we  are  now.  But  then  most  of  our  personal 
organs  were  in  abeyance,  like  those  of  the  butterfly.  The 
functions  that  now  belong  to  the  lungs,  heart,  and  stomach 
were  then  performed  by  the  umbilical  cord  and  the  placenta. 
Ushered  into  life,  we  used  those  no  longer,  but  at  once  em- 
ployed the  organs  adapted  to  our  present  state  of  existence. 
Why,  in  passing  away  from  this  scene  of  existence,  should 
not  a  similar  substitution  of  organs  take  place,  those  now 
used  being  laid  aside  for  a  new  group  better  fitted  for  the 
higher  sphere  on  which  we  are  to  enter?  How  much  is  such 
an  anticipation  encouraged  by  all  that  we  see  in  the  animal 
world,  as,  for  instance,  the  crawling  caterpillar  transformed  into 
the  winged  butterfly !  The  ancients  regarded  this  transforma- 
tion as  a  significant  type  of  a  better  resurrection  which  awaits 
our  humanity;  and  in  the  beautiful  fable  of  Psyche,  a  word 
which  stands  both  for  butterfly  and  for  soul,  they  embodied 
this  deep-seated  opinion. 

We  appeal  to  the  preceding  considerations  for  a  twofold 
purpose, —  1st,  to  rebut  any  supposed  presumption  in  favor  of 
the  extinction  of  our  whole  being  at  death,  which  can  be  de- 
rived from  the  violent  character  and  apparently  wasting  effects 
of  that  event;  and  2dly,  to  afford  a  strong  affirmative  pre- 
sumption in  favor  of  our  conscious  personal  existence  after 
that  event.     We  add  three  or  four  more. 

3.  An  instinctive  feeling  of  the  stipretnacy  and  sovereignty 
of  mind  in  respect  to  our  vital  functions  and  organs.  Those  on 
which  the  maintenance  of  life  depends  are  wisely  placed  in  a 
good  degree  beyond  our  control.  Yet  how  much  can  the 
soul  do  to  modify  even  their  action,  quickening  or  retarding 
the  circulation  through  violent  emotions,  and  sometimes 
through  deliberate  purpose,  promoting  or  obstructing  diges- 
tion, according  as  we  are  in  happy  or  wretched  moods  of 
mind!  Even  in  sleep  we  can  retain  a  species  of  mastery  over 
our  powers ;  for,  on  falling  asleep,  let  us  resolve  that  we  will 

28 


.-,.  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

awake  at  a  given  hour,  and  when  that  hour  comes  the  decree 
is  executed,  even  by  organs  that  were  just  now  steeped  in 
seeming  forgetfulness. 

With  respect  to  the  voluntary  powers,  what   control    may 
not  a  vigorous,  resolute  will  exert  over  even  their  most  vio- 
lent  impulses !     We  see  it  in  a  child,  restraining  itself  when 
urged  by  abounding  nervous  energy  to  make  a  noise  or  to 
run  or  jump;  in  an  old  person,  resisting  peevishness.     And 
in  sickness,  in  old  age,  at  the  approach  of  death,  if  there  is 
imbecility,  it-  is  not  so  much  the  will,  the  spiritual  power,  that 
fails,  but  its  material  instrument.     Often,  however,  we  see,  in 
the  last  hours  of  men,  and  especially  of  those  who  have  lived 
a  life  of  religious  faith  and  hope,  that  even  amidst  the  decay 
of  the  outward  man  "  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day." 
Still  more  striking  is  the  fact,  that  men,  with  all  their  love 
of  life,  set  so  lightly  by  it  that  they  perpetually  sacrifice  it  for 
an  idea,  and  sometimes  deliberately  and  proudly  cast  it  away 
for  a  principle,  or,  as  some  will  call  it,  for  a  mere  abstraction, 
as  for  country,  honor,  religion,— an  offering  most  absurd,  if 
that  which  we  sacrifice  is  our  all  of  life;  but  most  intelligible 
and  honorable  if  it  be  but  the  porch  to  a  higher  life,  where 
principles  are  to  be  everything  and  outward  estate  as  the  dust 
in  the  balance.     "  Is  not  your  life  more  than  meat  ?"  said 
Christ.     "  If  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope,"  said  one  who  had 
been  taught  of  Christ,  "  we  are  of  all  men  most  miserable." 

4.  Observe,  also,  the  radical  difference  in  the  law  of  devel- 
opment luhich  governs  mind  from  that  zvhich  governs  the  ma- 
terial organism.  To  the  development  of  the  latter,  an  early 
limit  is  fixed,  and  then  forthwith  comes  decline.  The  recruit- 
ing and  wasting  functions  are  never  exactly  in  equilibrio  ;  so 
that  decay  and  corporeal  dissolution,  as  well  as  growth,  are 
provided  for  in  the  very  structure  of  the  frame.  But,  in  the 
structure  and  laws  of  mind,  a  continued  and  ever-progressive 
existence  seems  to  be  as  clearly  provided  for.  Only  the  pas- 
sions, imagination,  and  such  active  powers  as  pertain  to  our 


THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS    TO   !T:i,    OWN  DESTINY. 


435 


present  wants,  ripen  before  the  age  of  fifty.  Those  which  be- 
long to  a  higher  Hfe,  of  reason,  wisdom,  love,  resignation,  be- 
neficence,— we  never  see  them  in  their  highest  perfection  before 
a  time  when  the  bodily  powers  are  decaying.  Dramatists, 
Musical  Composers,  etc.  ripen  early ;  Statesmen,  Sages,  Judges, 
Philanthropists,  later.  When  in  this  life  does  mind  ever  attain 
to  its  perfection,  so  that  it  craves  no  more,  can  accomplish  no 
more  ?  When  to  knowledge  does  the  all-grasping  and  ques- 
tioning intellect  say,  It  is  enough  ?  when  the  heart  to  love  ? 
when  the  soul  to  active  usefulness  ?  when  to  any  spiritual  or 
higher  good  ? 

If  it  be  objected  that  this  capacity  for  continued  advance 
is  not  usually  manifested,  the  answer  is  that  the  fault  is  in  the 
will,  which  surrenders  itself  to  indolence  and  inertia,  or  to 
baser  tastes  and  propensities. 

We  may  ask,  at  this  point,  whether  we  do  not  see,  in  the 
constitution  of  the  human  mind,  a  pledge  that  it  shall  survive 
the  great  event  called  death?  In  many  cases  death  itself  must 
be  a  dark  and  horrible  enigma,  without  the  hope  of  such  sur- 
vival. Look  at  the  little  infant,  just  born  to  die;  at  the  old 
saint,  warring  through  life  with  evil  without  and  evil  within, 
self-cultivated,  beneficent,  full  of  love  to  God  and  man,  going 
down  to  his  grave  as  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe, —  ripe!  for 
what?  Annihilation,  extinction  of  being?  to  mingle  in  un- 
distinguishable  corruption  with  the  clods  that  press  upon  his 
bosom  ? 

In  maintaining  this  argument,  we  proceed,  it  must  be  re- 
membered, upon  strictly  inductive  principles.  We  point  to 
certain  facts  in  human  nature,  and  ask  that  they  be  explained 
on  any  other  supposition  than  that  man  is  to  survive  the  great 
event  called  death.  If,  without  this  supposition,  such  facts 
cannot  receive  a  full  and  satisfactory  explanation,  then,  for  the 
present,  at  least,  are  we  bound  to  assume  and  act  upon  a 
future  Life  as  an  established  fact.  We  are  to  proceed,  as  the 
Naturalist  does,  upon  the  principle  that  nothing  exists  in  vain, 


436  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

and  that  when  an  organ  or  unused  function  is  discovered,  we 
may  take  it  for  granted  that  the  time  is  coming  when  that 
function  will  be  required  and  that  end  attained.  When  the 
Naturalist  meets  an  animal  with  fins  and  gills,  he  does  not 
hesitate  to  affirm  that  it  must  be  intended  to  breathe  and  move 
under  water.  So  when  we  discover  the  wings  of  the  bird,  or 
the  feet  and  limbs  of  the  quadruped,  we  at  once  infer  the  sphere 
for  which  it  is  intended;  and  so  also  the  rudimentary  wings  in 
the  caterpillar.  Is  it  not  right  to  make  a  corresponding  inference 
when  we  mark  the  desire  and  capacity  in  man  for  illimitable 
and  never-ending  progress  ;  when  we  observe  how  he  regards 
his  body,  both  as  a  slave  and  as  an  incumbrance  ;  how  he  feels 
that,  since  his  identity  has  already  survived  many  and  great 
changes,  it  may  survive  others  and  perhaps  greater  still ;  and 
how  he  clings  instinctively  to  the  feeling  that  his  personality 
is  one  and  indivisible,  and  that  in  existing  now  it  gives  every 
pledge  of  its  continuing  to  exist  hereafter?  Man  is  well  and 
wisely  made,  if  made  for  Immortality.  If  otherwise,  then  we 
should  not  see  here  what  we  see  everywhere  else  in  Nature, — 
mutual  adjustment  between  beings  and  the  places  they  occupy. 
5.  We  refer,  further,  to  what  takes  place  in  some  of  the 
abnormal  states  of  the  mind,  such  as  dreaming,  reverie,  and 
ecstasy.  In  dreaming,  our  voluntary  corporeal  organs  are  at 
rest,  and  their  nervous  sensibility  greatly  reduced.  The  vol- 
untary powers  of  the  mind  are  also  suspended,  and  we  sur- 
render the  whole  nature  to  spontaneous  processes.  What  en- 
sues ?  Consciousness  tells  us  that  we  seem  emancipated  from 
every  mortal  clog,  from  the  restraints  of  space  and  time,  and 
from  all  material  incumbrances.  We  dream  of  being  dead, 
and  yet  know  at  the  same  time  that  we  are  alive.  Is  not  this 
a  glimpse  into  the  disembodied  state  ? — an  obscure  prophecy 
coming,  like  the  prophecies  of  old,  in  dreams  and  visions  of 
the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  on  man,  and  proclaiming 
what  is  to  be  hereafter  our  scene  of  action  and  of  contempla- 
tion ?     We  do  not  insist  on  this ;  wc  only  give  what  seems  a 


THE   SOUL   A    WITiVESS    TO   ITS    OWN  DESTINY.      437 

not  unlikely  view.  To  us  it  appears  but  reasonable  that  part 
of  man's  life  being  passed  in  the  body,  part  of  it  should  also  be 
passed,  as  it  were,  without  it,  that  thus  he  may  be  the  better 
trained  for  an  organism  more  ethereal  and  refined  than  that 
which  he  now  employs. 

6.  Consider,  again,  our  strong  persuasion,  partly,  perhaps, 
instinctive,  partly  the  fruit  of  experience,  Xhdit  faith  in  an  after- 
life is  essentia/  to  man's  true  ivelfare,  even  as  it  respects  the  life 
that  now  is.  Both  reason  and  experience  strengthen  this  be- 
lief How  can  we  make  man  thoughtful,  laborious,  self-sac- 
rificing if  he  has  no  expectations  that  reach  beyond  death? 
"  Ivet  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die  ;"  "  Live  while 
you  live;"  "A  short  life  and  a  merry  one."  This,  the  lan- 
guage of  licentious  passion,  is  the  natural  language  of  a  heart 
shorn  of  its  religious  hopes.  With  those  hopes  it  feels  the 
value  of  its  higher  faculties,  and  the  wisdom  of  using  them. 
We  can  see  even  the  reasonableness  of  sacrificing  everything 
rather  than  grovel  with  the  beasts  that  perish,  and  from  the 
depths  of  the  soul's  best  convictions  and  yearnings  comes  a 
cry  like  that  of  Jesus,  "  What  is  a  man  profited,  though  he 
gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?"  On  the  other 
hand,  let  a  man  be  bent  on  living  a  sordid  or  a  sensual  life, 
and  he  wants  no  remembrancers  of  a  future  beyond  the  grave. 

7.  Consider,  again,  our  instinctive  preference  of  the  ideal 
over  the  actual.  Animals  are  content  with  what  they  have. 
Man  is  continually  flying  from  what  he  has  to  what  he  knows 
not  of;  he  "  never  is,  but  always  to  be,  blest."  Animals  move 
on,  satisfied  and  submissive,  along  the  level  which  has  been 
allotted  to  them.  Man  is  ever  struggling  to  escape  from  the 
sphere, — to  rise  above  the  level  in  which  he  finds  himself 
Nothing  will  content  him  but  such  faith,  on  the  one  hand, 
as  inspires  him  with  the  feeling  that  he  is  but  a  pilgrim  on 
earth,  who  ought  not,  therefore,  to  be  too  anxious  about  the 
accommodations  of  his  journey;  or  such  debasement,  on  the 
other,  as  involves  the  abdication  of  the  higher  powers  of  his 


438  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

soul,  and  reconciles  him  to  employ  all  his  mental  resources  in 
ministering  to  his  bodily  wants.  Then,  when  his  only  ques- 
tion is,  "  What  shall  I  eat,  what  shall  I  drink,  and  wherewithal 
shall  I  be  clothed  ?"  it  is  but  meet  that  he  should  feel  and  act 
like  the  animal  that  he  has  become,  and  therefore  have  no 
yearning  for  a  better  state.  But,  in  others,  imagination  will 
conceive,  desire  court,  and  active  energy  seek  to  realize  some- 
thing better  and  nobler  than  we  have.  It  is  so  both  with  our 
outward  and  our  inward  estate.  Who,  except  through  his 
trust  in  God  and  his  expectations  from  an  hereafter,  was  ever 
perfectly  content  with  the  wealth,  the  fame,  the  power  he  has, 
or  with  the  knowledge,  the  mental  power,  the  love  from  others, 
the  beneficent  usefulness  he  calls  his  own?  Use  and  habit  can 
do  much,  we  admit,  to  induce  acquiescence  and  lead  us  to 
hesitate  before  we  take  another's  place  and  character  rather 
than  our  own.  But  this  does  not  prevent  our  conceiving  one 
more  perfect,  nor  of  making  it  the  object  of  desire. 

Are  we  told  that  this  principle  has  an  earthly  use  sufficient 
to  account  for  it  in  the  stimulus  it  supplies  to  sustained  efforts 
after  larger  and  better  things  than  we  now  have?  This,  we 
admit,  is  a  useful  end,  and  one  compassed,  in  part,  through  this 
principle.  But  were  it  the  great  or  only  one,  we  should  ex- 
pect to  find  the  sentiment  most  active  and  influential  in  the 
earlier  years  of  our  life.  Instincts  are  always  most  awake  and 
urgent  when  they  are  most  needed.  But  how  is  it  with  this 
disposition  to  replace  the  actual  by  the  ideal  ?  Is  it  the  young, 
or  those  in  the  full  vigor  of  their  earlier  manhood,  that  we 
find  mourning  over  the  emptiness  of  all  that  they  have,  and 
^11,  perhaps,  that  this  world  can  give?  Is  it  from  them  that 
we  hear  again,  as  from  a  fresh  experience  or  a  fresh  intuition, 
the  lamentation  of  Solomon,  "Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity"? 
By  no  means.  The  young  are  apt  to  be  satisfied  with  life  as 
it  is.  It  is  in  later  years,  when  instructed  by  a  larger  expe- 
rience, and  among  those  who  are  the  most  thoughtful  and 
large-minded,  that  we  meet  the  deepest  sense  of  the  insuffi- 


THE  SOUL   A    WITNESS    TO  ITS   OWN  DESTINY.      430 

ciency  of  all  things  earthly  and  the  liveliest  yearning  for  a 
better  inheritance. 

Take  two  forms  of  this  phenomenon,  {ci)  The  desire  of 
knowledge,  when  genuine,  not  a  mere  love  of  novelty,  or  idle 
curiosity,  but  a  sincere  love  for  truth  in  its  great  principles 
and  in  its  unity.  It  does  but  grow  by  what  it  feeds  on.  Look 
at  Newton  at  the  close  of  life.  How  mysterious,  if  he  is  not 
to  retain  his  mental  power  and  his  self-conscious  personality 
beyond  this  narrow  span  !  How  intelligible  and  natural  if 
he  is ! 

[b)  The  sentiment  that  prompts  us  to  substitute,  for  our  brief 
term  of  life  on  earth,  a  vast  ideal  period  running  both  back- 
ward and  forward.  Through  history  and  through  personal 
incorporation  with  natural  and  artificial  societies,  we  seem  to 
become  cotemporaries  with  those  who  lived  long  before  us. 
So  through  other  societies  and  through  deeds  that  will  win 
an  enduring  name,  or  exert  an  enduring  power  over  men's 
minds  and  actions  hereafter.  We  hope  to  live  in  power  when 
we  are  no  more  seen  in  person.  This  intense  longing  for  post- 
humous fame  and  posthumous  power,  this  dread  that  when 
gone  we  shall  be  forgotten,  or,  though  remembered,  shall 
have  but  a  name  to  live, — how  inexplicable  if  this  life  be  our 
all ! — how  natural  if  we  are  to  exist  forever !  And  it  is  only 
when  such  a  future  is  recognized  and  remembered  that  this 
sentiment  is  useful  even  for  our  present  life.  Coupled  with  a 
proper  sense  of  future  responsibility,  it  leads  us  to  do  good  to 
men  while  we  honor  God,  to  think  of  earth  and  its  welfare 
while  we  strive  for  heaven.  But  if  disconnected  from  such  a 
feeling,  it  is  often  one  of  the  most  pernicious  sentiments  of 
man's  nature,  and  has  filled  the  world  with  ruthless  votaries 
of  ambition. 

Again,  both  body  and  mind  work  during  life,  and  leave 
visible  monuments  behind  them.  But  the  matter  of  the  body 
survives,  the  decay  of  its  organs  helping  to  keep  up  the  equi- 
librium of  the  material  system  of  the  universe,  and  subserving 


440  T'HE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

other  useful  purposes.     And  is  the  spirit  extinct, — the  less 
outlasting  the  greater,  the  nobler  perishing  utterly  when  the 

meaner  triumphantly  outrides  the  last  great  earthly  shock  ? 

Ask  we  of  the  body  and  its  future? 

Our  nature  prophesies  of  it,  too, — 

{a)  Through  an  instinctive  regard  for  the  remains  of  the 
human  dead. 

[U)  Through  the  prevailing  belief  in  apparitions  of  the  de- 
parted. 

[c)  Through  the  probability  that  a  material,  external  world, 
a  new  Heavens  and  a  new  Earth,  will  survive  the  last  great 
conflagration,  and  be  the  appropriate  dwelling-place  of  a  risen 
and  regenerated  body. 


CHAPTER   11. 

RETRIBUTION  IN  THE  AETER-LIFE. 

IN  discussing  this  subject,  we  shall  be  led,  of  course,  to 
dwell  on  the  moral  constitution  of  man,  and  the  evidence 
we  shall  adduce  bears  as  well  in  favor  of  Immortality  as  of 
the  truth  we  now  insist  upon.  Let  us  repeat,  too,  that  we 
appeal  here  to  nothing  but  the  principles  and  laws  of  man's 
complex  nature. 

There  are  three  questions : — First.  In  the  life  to  come, 
wherein,  as  we  have  said,  we  are  to  retain  our  identity  and 
our  personal  consciousness,  shall  we  experience  retribution 
for  the  deeds  of  this  life  ? 

Secojid.  Will  the  retribution  experienced  be  moral  retribu- 
tion, dispensed  according  to  the  moral  character  of  our  actions? 

TJiird.  Will  it  be  final  and  unending? 

First.  Will  there  be  retribution  ?  This  involves  a  law,  a 
knowledge  of  the  law,  and  of  the  consequences  to  accrue  in 
case  of  obedience  or  disobedience,  and  also  such  a  degree  of 
personal  liberty  as  enables  us  to  conform  our  conduct  to  the 
course  required.  Our  intuitive  convictions  teach  that  there  is 
law,  that  as  all  natural  events  succeed  each  other  in  fixed 
order,  so  to  all  our  actions  are  annexed  specific  consequences. 
These  consequences  can  be  foreknown,  and  though  they  may, 
in  particular  cases,  be  suspended  or  even  averted,  yet,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  both  our  consciousness  and  our  experience  proclaim 
that,  a  given  action  being  performed,  a  definite  result  will 
follow  to  the  agent,  and  perhaps  to  others.  Our  faith  in  this 
case  is  but  a  modification  or  special  form  of  that  which  we 
instinctively  have  in  the  constancy  of  nature,  and  in  the  rela- 

(441  ) 


442 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


tion  of  cause  and  effect.  To  a  past  act  or  actions,  our  present 
condition  and  character  stand  in  the  relation  of  effect ;  to 
those  to  come,  in  the  rehition  of  partial  or  entire  cause.  iVnd 
so  the  sum  or  aggregate  of  those  actions,  which  have  gone  to 
make  up  our  present  character,  are  represented  by  that  char- 
acter as  their  exponent,  while  the  latter  again  foreshadows 
our  impending  future.  These  are  the  coming  events  that 
cast  their  shadows  before.  Ask  what  a  man  will  be  in  char- 
acter five  years  hence,  and  his  present  and  past  will  generally 
enable  us  to  answer  the  question.  "  The  boy  is  father  of  the 
man,"  and  the  mortal  terrestrial  man  a  harbinger  of  the  man 
immortal.  This  connection  between  successive  stafjes  of  our 
existence  can  be  broken  by  nothing  but  a  strenuous  effort 
of  our  wills,  aided  by  a  higher  power.  That  achievement 
effected,  the  new  purpose  and  new  character  induced  become 
a  new  cause,  which  is  a  pledge  of  a  new  and  corresponding 
future. 

But  suppose  death  to  intervene  before  any  such  moral  revo- 
lution has  taken  place,  what  are  we  to  anticipate  ?  The  indi- 
vidual's personal  identity  remains  intact.  So,  too,  does  his 
accumulated  stock  of  habits,  affections,  and  tastes ;  and  are 
not  these  to  draw  after  them  their  appropriate  consequences  ? 
Does  merely  passing  the  narrow  threshold  that  divides  this 
world  from  the  next  involve  the  suspension  or  abrogation  of 
one  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  his  being  ? — laws  which  he  is 
compelled  to  recognize  by  his  strongest  convictions  ?  Up  to 
this  point  he  has  known  no  other  law.  Had  he  remained  on 
earth,  it  would  have  still  reigned  over  him;  and  can  a  transi- 
tion such  as  we  refer  to  set  it  aside  and  place  him  under  a 
dispensation  wanting  in  the  first  principle  of  a  continuous 
identity  ? 

All  our  experience  of  the  opposite  effects  of  prudence  and 
imprudence,  for  example,  leads  us  to  recognize: — first,  that 
there  is  a  government  established  over  the  world  ;  and  second, 
that  since  this  goveriiment  does  not  complete  its  dispensation 


RETRIBUTION  IN  THE  AFTER-LIFE.  ^^ 

of  rewards  and  punishments  in  this  Hfe,  much  is  to  be  reserved 
for  another. 

Second.  Is  the  r'ctribiition  to  be  expected  in  a  future  life  a 
moral  one, — one  that  visits  the  good  with  happiness  and  the 
wicked  with  misery  ?  We  shall  find  an  answer,  so  far  as  Hu- 
man Nature  can  give  one,  in — 

1.  Our  deep  conviction  that  moral  character  and  outward 
estate  should  correspond,  that  the  holy  should  be  happy  and 
the  unholy  miserable.  Hence  comes  our  reverence  for  him 
who  will  do  justice  to  others  at  any  expense ;  our  desire  to 
reward  where  there  is  great  merit  and  to  punish  where  there 
is  great  demerit ;  our  impatience  when  the  proud  prosper  an(J 
the  lowly  are  cast  down ;  our  sense  of  the  close  connection 
which  really  subsists  between  virtue  and  felicity,  vice  and 
wretchedness,  evinced  by  our  applying  the  same  words  to 
denote  moral  and  natural  good  or  evil.  In  fictitious  Literature 
we  demand  the  connection  most  sternly,  because  there  the 
Poet  or  Artist  is  supposed  to  have  his  machinery  at  command, 
and  to  be  able  to  dispense  happiness  and  misery  at  pleasure. 
Hence,  if  he  does  not  reward  merit,  after  subjecting  it  to  trial, 
nothing  can  reconcile  us  to  his  course  but  distinct  reference 
to  a  future  retribution,  where  the  innocent  sufferer  shall  be 
redressed  and  the  guilty  visited  with  displeasure.  When 
this  reference  is  made  most  clearly,  we  cannot  endure  that, 
even  on  earth,  the  wicked  should  escape  entirely ;  and  hence 
we  should  have  been  utterly  outraged  had  Shakspeare's  lago 
survived  the  catastrophe  which  he  had  produced  and  been 
permitted  to  enjoy  in  peace  the  prize  he  aimed  at. 

2.  And  what  the  mind  thus  demands  in  life  is  supplied  in 
part.  Everything  in  the  history  and  conduct  of  men  evinces 
their  conviction  not  only  that  sin  -and  suffering,  goodness  and 
happiness,  ought  to  be  united,  but  that,  as  a  general  thing,  they 
are  united.  Hence  the  proverbs  (those  condensed  results  of 
a  nation's  collective  experience)  which  are  found  in  every  land, 
proclaiming  that  virtue  is  the  way  to  happiness,  honesty  the 


^^  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

best  policy,  and  the  way  of  transgressors  hard.  Hence  Legis- 
lation, which  aims  chiefly  to  find  out  what  is  useful  rather 
than  that  which  is  right,  denouncing,  because  injurious,  the 
same  acts  which  the  moralist  denounces  as  wrong.  Hence 
History,  if  conceived  with  a  moral  eye,  by  one  who  esteems 
himself  a  judge,  arbitrating  between  events  and  actors,  and 
rendering  true  verdict  according  to  evidence,  without  favor 
or  fear;  who  arraigns  the  guilty  and  successful  great  only  the 
more  sternly,  because  they  are  successful  and  great ;  who  feels 
his  obligation  to  chastise  the  memories  of  those  who  forgot 
that  their  elevation  bestowed  no  immunity,  but  imposed  a 
fearfully  augmented  responsibility.  Hence  the  one  strain  in 
which  all  such  history  is  written, — i.e.  that  righteousness  alone 
exalteth  nations,  while  sin  is  the  curse  of  any  people.  And 
hence,  finally,  our  experience,  when  applied  to  smaller  masses 
of  men.  All  unite  in  teaching  that  holiness  and  happiness, 
sin  and  misery,  are  affianced  by  the  will  of  the  Great  Sov- 
ereign. 

Here,  then,  is  the  government  demanded  by  our  moral 
sense.  Do  we  see  it  practically  exhibited  on  earth  ?  We  see 
wickedness  everywhere  entailing  misery;  but  often  on  the  in- 
nocent as  well  as  on  the  guilty.  We  see  it  suddenly  and 
mysteriously  punished ;  but  we  also  see  it  going  on,  some- 
times long,  joyously  and  triumphantly,  in  the  way  of  seeming 
success.  There  is  reward  enough  for  the  good,  and  punish- 
ment enough  for  the  wicked,  if  it  be  admitted  that  this  is  the 
beginning,  the  partial  development  of  a  mixed  scheme,  com- 
mencing in  discipline  and  ending  in  retribution ;  but  other- 
wise, and  considered  as  a  state  of  righteous  retribution,  this 
world  can  satisfy  no  one,  whether  he  be  holy  or  unholy. 
Hence  we  ask,  if  there  be  no  other  principle  of  human  nature 
to  bear  witness  on  this  subject  ? 

3.  We  answer  there  is.  It  is  conscience,  which,  directed  to 
our  own  sins,  first  inspires  shame  and  inflicts  the  anguish  of 
self-reproach.    Then  it  awakens  fear  that  others  will  be  urged 


RETRIBUTION  IN  THE  AFTER-LIFE.  445 

by  their  moral  displeasure  to  hunt  up  our  sins,  and  have  them 
punished;  and,  finally,  it  constrains  us  to  look  both  forward  to 
another  time  of  reckoning  after  death,  and  upward  to  the 
avenging  Judge,  who  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty.  Con- 
science stands  before  the  sinner,  pointing  with  one  hand  to  the 
sin,  with  the  other  to  a  judgment  after  death,  her  eyes  alter- 
nately raised  to  God  and  dropped  with  searching  glances  on 
the  sinner's  inmost  heart.  Then  do  troubles  take  hold  upon 
him ;  then  does  he  feel  he  must  become  reconciled  to  Him 
whom  he  has  offended,  or  he  must  look  with  fear  and  horror 
towards  the  day  of  reckoning. 

As  conscience  urges  upon  us  the  recognition  of  a  righteous 
retribution  after  death,  and  reason  shows  it  to  be  necessary 
both  to  vindicate  the  ways  of  Providence  and  to  satisfy  man's 
deep  instinctive  convictions,  it  may  be  well  to  mention  a  few 
considerations  which  seem  to  indicate  a  future  state  as  the 
most  appropriate  place  for  a  full  and  perfect  retribution. 

In  looking  at  pains  and  pleasures  as  instruments  of  moral 
government,  we  see  that  they  subserve  three  purposes  at  dif- 
ferent stages  of  our  existence: — i,  in  earlier  life  they  are 
mainly  monitory ;  2,  later  they  are  both  monitory  and  retri- 
butory  (as,  for  example,  the  pain  consequent  on  the  intem- 
perate use  of  any  organ,  such  as  the  eye  or  the  stomach). 
Later  still,  when  activity  declines  and  pleasures  are  less  from 
the  body  and  more  from  the  mind,  they  become  less  and  less 
monitory  and  more  retributory.  This  is  precisely  the  course 
we  adopt  with  the  positive  or  instituted  rewards  and  punish- 
ments which  we  apply  in  training  children  at  home  or  at 
school.  At  first  they  are  applied  mainly  as  incitements  or 
discouragements;  afterwards  they  are  also  used  as  punish- 
ments or  rewards;  until,  finally,  the  child  becomes  so  good 
or  so  depraved  that  we  suspend  discipline,  and  give  him  over 
to  reap  as  he  has  sown — i.e.  to  receive  the  natural  results  of 
his  previous  course. 

This   enables  us  to  understand  the  threefold  use  of  hap- 


446 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


piness    and    misery   or    pleasure    and    pain    in   the   present 
world. 

It  enables  us  to  understand,  also,  why  this  world  should  be 
the  scene  of  only  partial  retribution  at  every  period  of  life. 
Even  in  old  age,  men  rarely  receive  according  to  all  their 
works,  because  their  probation  or  discipline  is  not  yet  ended. 

It  enables  us,  also,  to  understand  how,  as  a  scene  of  Retri- 
bution merely,  a  future  world  may  supply  much  that  is  needed 
here,  as,  for  instance, — 

{a)  Ample  time  and  room  for  actions  to  work  out  all  their 
consequences. 

{b)  Means  to  bring  forth  only  fruit  corresponding  in  char- 
acter to  our  acts  and  motives, — no  grafting  of  a  foreign  stock 
upon  it  through  the  agency  of  others, — no  responsibility  con- 
stantly blended  with  that  of  others, — no  want  of  harmony  be- 
tween body  and  mind,  the  one  feasted  with  luxuries  of  the 
higher  and  lower  senses,  while  the  other  is  tortured  with  bad 
passions  and  with  self-reproaches, — no  power  of  self-oblivion, 
through  care  and  pleasure  and  sleep, — no  deficient  sensibility 
either  of  the  soul  or  of  its  organs, — no  presence  of  unhar- 
monizing  spirits  among  the  good, — no  ministers  of  blessing 
among  the  evil. 

May  it  not  be  that  the  immediate  interposition  of  God  in 
meting  out  final  rewards  and  punishments,  that  interposition 
which  answers  to  our  idea  of  positive  rewards  and  punish- 
ments appointed  by  human  governments,  will  consist  mainly 
in  removing  at  death  the  obstructions  which  now  lie  in  the 
way  of  the  character's  producing  its  proper  effect  on  happi- 
ness ?  It  may  be  the  act  of  Infinite  Power,  Wisdom,  Justice, 
and  Benevolence,  taking  man  from  the  mixed  lot  in  which  he 
now  is,  for  his  trial  and  education,  to  one  unmixed,  in  which 
he  shall  receive  the  natural  fruits  of  his  past  life.  Suppose, 
even  now,  the  bad  man,  the  sensualist,  the  servant  of  envious, 
jealous,  and  malicious  tempers,  or  the  hard-worked  slave  of 
the  world's  cares  and  behests, — now  propitiating  Mammon, 


RETRIBUTION  IN  THE  AFTER-LIFE. 


447 


now  offering  sacrifices  before  the  Divinity  of  Fashion  or  of 
Ambition,  unmindful  of  his  highest  duties,  of  his  own  proper 
dignity,  of  the  hoHest  and  sweetest  charities  of  life ;  hard  to 
the  poor,  hard  to  his  defenceless  debtors,  hard  in  judging 
men's  motives, — suppose  such  an  one  suddenly  turned  over  to 
the  legitimate  consequences  of  his  past  life,  so  that  he  should 
live  only  in  the  atmosphere  of  his  own  tastes,  habits,  and  affec- 
tions— all  sleep,  all  care  or  pleasure  that  might  divert  his 
thoughts,  all  association  with  better  natures,  denied  him,  and 
his  soul  left  alone  with  itself  or  with  kindred  spirits,  and 
carrying  everywhere  a  clear  perception  of  its  own  unworthi- 
ness, — could  the  result  be  anything  but  the  most  intense  and 
unmitigated  misery  ? 

FUTURE    RETRIBUTION — MORAL   AND    FINAL. 

We  have  now  shown  how  human  nature  gives  intimation 
of  an  account  to  be  rendered  after  death,  and  to  be  rendered 
in  our  character  as  moral  agents.  We  have  also  remarked, 
that  the  Retributions  dispensed  in  this  life,  though  moral,  are 
but  partial ;  that  they  indicate  a  moral  government,  begun  but 
not  completed ;  and  we  have  surmised  one  great  reason  why 
it  should  be  so.  We  have  suggested  that  if  the  present  life  is 
one  of  probation  and  discipline  rather  than  of  a  full  and  exact 
distribution  of  justice,  such  incompleteness  in  rewards  and  pun- 
ishments is  accounted  for.  Some  of  the  obstructions  which 
now  stand  in  the  way  of  the  natural  consequences  of  our  ac- 
tions we  have  pointed  out ;  and,  supposing  these  to  be  removed 
at  death,  we  have  asked.  What,  by  the  very  laws  of  our  na- 
ture, would  be  the  necessary  and  inevitable  result  to  the  good 
and  to  the  wicked  ? 

In  asking  for  these  natural  and  necessary  results,  we  by  no 
means  intend  to  intimate  that  there  are  not  also  positive  or 
extra-natural  rewards  and  punishments  analogous  to  those 
which  are  appointed   by  human  governments.      Indeed,  we 


448 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


can  see  a  reason  for  such  positive  remunerations.  When  we 
educate  a  child  wisely,  whether  at  school  or  at  home,  we  sub- 
ject him  to  efforts  and  to  restraints  which  at  the  time  are 
painful.  We  do  it  because  it  is  the  only  way  in  which  we  can 
develop  moral  and  intellectual  power, — the  only  way  in  which 
we  can  form  good  habits  and  principles,  and  mould  the  whole 
nature  into  a  shape  worthy  of  all  honor.  Now,  if  we  succeed 
in  our  object,  if  the  child  yields  cheerfully  and  profits  faith- 
fully by  such  a  training,  we  are  hardly  satisfied  with  leaving 
him  to  the  natural  rewards  of  his  well-doing.  We  would  add 
to  these,  great  as  they  are,  some  additional  and  expressive 
tokens  of  our  delight  and  approbation.  The  "Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant ;  .  .  .  .  Faithful  over  a  few  things,  I 
will  make  thee  ruler  over  many  things:  enter  thou  into  the 
joy  of  thy  lord ;"  how  natural  all  this  on  earth  !  and  why  not 
in  heaven  ?  And  so  with  the  reverse  case.  Does  this  child 
withstand  our  discipline,  rebel  against  the  yoke  that  is  not  only 
proper  and  lawful,  but  necessary  for  his  best  good,  we  do  not 
leave  him  to  the  natural  results  of  his  misconduct  as  his  only 
punishment. 

But  we  are  now  to  consider  only,  or  chiefly,  the  natural  re- 
wards or  punishments  annexed  to  different  courses  of  conduct. 
We  are  to  ask,  whether,  in  the  constitution  of  man's  nature, 
there  are  not  provisions  for  Moral  Retribution  after  this  life. 
This  is  a  view  of  Anthropology  into  which  we  might  profita- 
bly enter  at  some  length  ;  for  there  is  none  fraught  with  am- 
pler or  more  impressive  teachings,  and  none,  we  may  add, 
more  neglected.  He  would  render  great  service  both  to  Philos- 
ophy and  to  Theology,  who  should  consider  our  nature  largely 
from  what  may  be  termed  the  retributory  standpoint,  who,  in 
analyzing  the  powers,  susceptibilities,  and  operations  of  the 
human  being,  should  unfold,  in  respect  to  each,  its  inherent 
retributory  functions.  The  subject  might  be  considered  sub- 
jectively and  objectively ;  in  the  one  case,  discussing  the  re- 
warding or  avenging  power  annexed  to  each  faculty  and  mode 


RETRIBUTION  IN  THE  AFTER-LIFE.  44Q 

of  action ;  in  the  other,  considering  the  great  personal  laws 
given  by  the  combined  operation  of  our  instincts,  consciences, 
reason,  and  experience,  and  contrasting  the  essentially  oppo- 
site effects  of  obedience  on  the  one  hand  and  of  disobedience 
on  the  other.  Take,  for  instance,  the  four  laws  of  Sobriety, 
Relative  Duty,  Self-Culture,  Religious  Consecration,  and  in- 
stitute the  contrast  just  referred  to  in  respect  to  each. 

We  will  illustrate  here,  however,  by  one  or  two  examples, 
taken  from  the  subjective  point  of  view.  Take  Memory.  We 
are  busy  all  our  days  in  treasuring  up  a  store  of  memories, 
pure  and  bright,  earthly  and  sordid,  or  base  and  sensual.  Too 
rarely  do  we  reckon  them  over;  too  rarely  do  we  revert  to 
them,  except  by  accident  or  for  a  special  purpose.  "  It  is 
greatly  wise,"  says  the  poet,  "  to  talk  with  our  past  hours." 
We  seem  hardly  to  think  so.  But  the  store  is  not  lost,  though 
forgotten.  The  sudden  resuscitation  of  long-buried  facts,  the 
simultaneous  and  vivid  reproduction  of  the  scenes  of  a  whole 
life,  often  experienced  by  men  near  death,  may  show  us  what 
is  not  only  possible  but  likely.  Suppose,  then,  that  in  pass- 
ing through  the  last  agony,  the  entire  past  of  our  voluntary 
lives  is  at  one  instant  reproduced,  as  in  brilliant  panorama, 
eveiy  object  distinct  and  bright, — Conscience  standing  by  to 
point  out  and  interpret;  Imagination  to  paint  what  might  h?iYQ 
been  in  our  past,  and  what  may  or  m?ist  be  in  our  future; 
Reason,  with  its  resistless  logic,  to  demonstrate  the  folly  or 
wisdom  of  each  act ;  and  Sensibility,  to  feel  all  the  appropriate 
exultation  or  shame,  self  approval  or  remorse,  hope  or  fear, 
confidence  or  despair.  Suppose  that  memory  takes  in  acts 
omitted  as  well  as  acts  overt,  every  case  in  which  we  turned 
away  our  face  from  the  poor,  neglected  to  wipe  away  a  tear, 
to  hush  an  anxiety,  to  speak  a  kind  word,  every  case  in  which 
we  wounded  by  a  thoughtless  look  or  word,  or  depressed  by 
a  cold  repulse. 

Or  take  Association,  and  suppose  that  of  the  four  principles 

29 


450 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


of  suggestion*  we  shall  be  compelled  to  associate  mainly,  in 
a  future  world,  by  one  of  them,  say  Contrast.  If  unholy,  every 
remembered  sin  would  suggest  its  opposite  virtue,  and  thus 
become  blacker  by  the  contrast,  every  pang  of  sorrow,  or  of 
envy,  or  of  hate  which  we  experienced  made  more  hateful  and 
agonizing  by  contrast  with  its  opposite.  So  one  might  take 
up  the  several  emotions  and  passions, — Pity,  normal  or  ab- 
normal. Reverence  and  Envy,  Love  and  Hate,  Pride  and  Hu- 
mility, Selfish  Appetite  and  self-forgetting  Affection. 

Such  a  course  of  illustration  would  be  valuable,  even  to  the 
believer  in  Revelation,  because  it  would  enable  him  to  attach 
due  significancy  to  those  words  of  awful  but  poorly-appre- 
hended import,  in  which  Scripture  sets  forth  the  Retribution 
in  store  for  us;  and  further,  because  it  would  force  on  all,  be- 
lievers and  unbelievers,  evidence  that  if  the  mind  is  to  carry  its 
identity  and  also  its  temper  and  condition  into  another  world, 
righteous  recompense  is  inevitable.  Retribution  coming  are 
two  words  that  seem  to  be  written,  in  characters  of  fearful 
radiance,  all  over  man's  threefold  nature  of  soul,  body,  and 
spirit. 

We  know  of  no  way  in  which  the  force  of  such  considera- 
tions can  be  withstood,  except  by  assuming  that,  at  death,  our 
moral  characters  are  to  be  reduced  to  a  neutral  state,  or  are 
to  be  directly  reversed.  This  assumption  is  as  full  of  evil  fore- 
boding to  the  good  as  it  is  of  encouragement  to  the  wicked ; 
and,  unless  warranted  by  cogent  reasons,  ought,  therefore,  to 
be  rejected  on  the  ground  of  its  immoral  tendency.  What  is 
there  to  warrant  it  ? 

I.  The  probable  influence  of  death  ? — a  change,  so  far  as 
we  can  know,  merely  physical  and  organic,  and  no  more 
touching  the  essential  moral  condition  of  the  soul  tlian  the 
moulting  of  its  feathers  by  a  bird,  or  the  casting  of  its  shell 
by  a  snail,  affects  its  life  or  its  specific  nature  and  functions. 


*  Resemblance,  contrast,  contiguity  in  time  or  place,  cause  and  effect. 


RETRIBUTION  IN   THE   AFTER-LIFE.  ^c  i 

2.  The  essential  idea  of  moral  character  and  personahty  ? 
Does  not  this  involve,  as  its  most  necessary  element,  freedom 
of  volition,  and  a  substitution,  by  a  course  of  voluntary  exer- 
tion, of  principles  and  habits  for  mere  instincts  and  impulses? 
Is  a  particular  moral  character  impressed  on  any  man,  inde- 
pendent of  any  act  or  agency  of  his  own  ? 

3.  Would  the  principles  of  Justice  require  or  authorize  such 
a  change  ? 

We  come  now  to  the  third  question  involved  in  the  Prob- 
lem of  Future  Retribution  :  —  Is  it  to  be  final,  conclusive  both 
of  character  and  of  destiny?  This  question  does  not,  of  course, 
admit  of  a  full  answer  from  our  own  nature  alone.  It  is 
the  specific  point  in  the  doctrine  of  Immortality  on  which 
Revelation  was  intended  to  cast  the  most  decisive  and  novel 
light, — a  future  life  and  a  moral  retribution  after  this  life  being 
pre-existent  doctrines  among  men.  But  there  are  certain  facts 
in  our  nature  that  do  seem  to  look  towards  a  fixed  and  unal- 
terable destiny  at  some  period  of  our  existence. 

[a]  The  law  of  temporary  contingencies,  terminatitig-  in  an 
unchangeable  state.  This  law  obtains  with  vegetables,  animals, 
and  men.  Until  a  plant  or  animal  reaches  its  full  maturity, 
its  size  and  vigor  are  contingent.  Thenceforth  they  may  be 
regarded,  especially  the  former,  as  fixed.  It  is  the  same 
with  men  in  respect  to  their  bodies.  Why  not  in  respect  to 
their  souls  ?  Is  there  not  morally  "  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of 
men,"  a  great  crisis,  a  golden  opportunity,  as  there  are  irre- 
trievable mistakes,  losses,  and  penalties,  the  effect  of  which 
would  last  forever,  if  the  individual  were  to  live  forever  on 
earth,  and  there  were  no  interventions  of  a  power  greater  than 
his  own  ? 

{b)  The  laiv  of  habit,  which  conducts  us  through  a  series  of 
acts  and  changes,  each  voluntary  in  itself,  towards  a  constant 
state,  passive  or  active, — a  state  of  moral  petrifaction,  which 
Omnipotence  alone  can  reverse. 

{c)  The  essential pcrpetidty  of  the  good  or  ill  effects  of  certain 


452 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


actions   which   we  all    experience    in   our  own    persons   and 
observe  in  the  experience  of  others. 

{d)  And  what  bears  more  directly  upon  the  question,  luheji 
this  destination  shall  be  reached.  The  law  that  results  which 
are  irreversible  follow  in  this  life  after  no  certain  interval,  in  no 
particular  way,  after  no  particular  warning,  teaching  us  that 
on  this  question  we  must  look  beyond  nature  to  Revelation. 

FUTURE  RETRIBUTION  AND  THE  PROBLEM  OF  EVIL. 

We  have  now  pointed  out  wherein  man's  nature  contains 
an  implied  pledge  of  a  Retribution  after  death,  both  righteous 
and  final.  The  question  when  probation  shall  end  and  final 
Retribution  begin,  is  one  which  would  seem  to  belong  to 
Revelation  alone.  There  are  facts  and  principles,  however, 
which  intimate  that  probation  may  be  arrested  before  the  close 
of  life,  and  that  the  individual  may  enter,  then,  on  his  unend- 
ing moral  career  for  good  or  ill.  Do  we  not  see  some  men 
whose  lofty  and  holy  spirit  seems  beyond  defection,  and  others 
of  whom  we  cannot  but  say  there  is  no  hope, — they  are  given 
over  to  blindness  of  mind  and  impenitence  of  heart?  These 
results  follow  a  long  career  of  action  in  obedience  to  right 
motives,  or  in  wanton  and  high-handed  defiance  of  them. 

Is  it  asked,  whether  there  are  not  other  facts  which  would 
indicate  that  probation  may  be  extended  beyond  the  term  of 
our  natural  lives  ?  We  answer,  that  we  know  of  none  such. 
The  inequality  in  the  length  of  men's  lives  cannot  be  alleged 
as  a  ground  of  probability  in  favor  of  such  a  result,  because — 

I.  Inequality  of  capacity,  endowment,  and  opportunity  is  a 
great  law  of  our  condition  here, — a  law  which  could  only  be 
replaced  (so  far  as  we  can  see)  by  one  that  would  make  all 
not  only  equal,  but  as  perfect,  both  in  condition  and  capacity, 
as  possible.  The  law,  as  it  now  stands,  is  the  source  of  that 
variety  in  life  and  that  free  interchange  and  conflict  of  activi- 
ties whence  issue  our  greatest  good. 


RETRIBUTION  IN  THE  AFTER-LIFE.  ^e -. 

2.  Whatever  disadvantage  results  from  the  shortness  of  our 
probationary  period,  is  counterbalanced  by  a  proportionate 
reduction  in  the  measure  of  our  accountability. 

3.  The  same  law  holds  in  respect  to  retributions  experienced 
on  earth,  through  the  natural  course  of  things,  as,  for  exam- 
ple, for  prudence  or  imprudence.  These  retributions  come  to 
some  sooner  than  to  others,  with  less  of  warning,  with  more 
of  suddenness. 

Indeed,  there  is  a  most  striking  analogy  observable  between 
the  retributions  thus  experienced  in  time  and  those  which  both 
the  Bible  and  our  own  nature  would  lead  us  to  anticipate  after 
death.  The  terms  which  Shakspeare  or  Solomon  employs  to 
depict  the  final  bestowal  of  these  earthly  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, may  be  transferred,  as  they  often  are,  word  for  word, 
and  with  striking  felicity,  to  the  recompense  awaiting  us  here- 
after. 

We  conclude  with  some  notice  of  a  kindred  topic,  which 
must  force  itself  on  our  notice  whenever  we  discuss  the  sub- 
ject of  Retribution.  This  is  the  Existence  and  Origin  of  evil, 
a  problem  which  has  been  anxiously  considered  for  thousands 
of  years,  and  which  still  remains  unsolved,  and — may  we  not 
add? — insoluble.  It  is  well  that  there  should  be  insoluble  dif- 
ficulties to  teach  us  modesty,  to  exercise  our  highest  powers 
of  thought,  and  to  lead  to  incidental  but  precious  discoveries, 
like  those  in  Chemistry  which  resulted  from  the  vain  pursuit 
of  the  philosopher's  stone. 

In  what  temper  shall  we  approach  this  mysterious  subject  ? 
It  should  be  calm,  self-distrustful,  comprehensive.  Partial  and 
one-sided  views  are  to  be  greatly  deprecated.  If  a  man 
choose  to  hunt  only  for  the  evils  of  life,  physical  or  moral,  or 
both,  he  will  find  enough  of  them.  He  who  should  gather 
into  his  field  of  vision  only  the  desert  wastes,  burning  sands, 
smoking  volcanoes,  and  tempestuous  clouds  of  our  planet, 
would  evince  as  little  wisdom  as  taste.  And  so  with  him  who 
should  feast  his  morbid  appetite  for  speculation  with  nothing 


454 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


but  the  crimes,  follies,  and  sufferings  of  men  as  developed  in 
his  neighborhood,  his  country,  his  age,  or  his  race.  The  re- 
sult objectively  would  be  a  caricature,  not  a  portrait;  subject- 
ively, it  would  be  suspicion,  jealousy,  and,  perhaps,  universal 
misanthropy.  To  this  perverse  course  some  men  are  urged 
by  their  unhealthy  tone  of  body  and  mind,  some  by  a  rooted 
and  engrossing  sorrow,  and  some,  alas !  by  a  reckless  and 
man-despising  skepticism. 

Opposed  to  this  stands  the  error  of  those  who  overlook  or 
industriously  extenuate  the  ills  of  life.  This  was  the  case 
with  the  Stoics  of  old.  It  is  the  case  with  Pope  in  the  Second 
Epistle  of  his  Essay  on  Man,  and  even  with  Paley  in  his 
chapters  on  the  Divine  Benevolence.*  There  is  suffering  on 
earth,  and  the  noblest  spirits  often  experience  the  most  of  it. 
The  only  adequate  solution,  therefore,  is  beyond  nature  and 
beyond  this  life,  in  the  hopes  of  a  coming  world,  and  in  the 
light  and  consolation-s  afforded  by  the  Man  of  sorrows,  the 
Friend  of  sinners. 

Avoiding  these  extremes,  and  embracing  candidly  the  whole 
truth,  we  find  that  there  is  a  vast  amount  of  moral  and  physical 
evil,  and  yet  a  greater  amount  of  possible  if  not  actual  good. 
The  first  introduction  of  this  evil  is  supposed  by  many  to 
involve  the  Divine  character  so  deeply,  that  we  must  either 
show  it  to  have  been  necessary  or  exhibit  it  as  the  occasion  of 
the  maximum  good,  or  else  we  shall  be  compelled  to  renounce 
our  faith  in  an  All-wise,  Powerful,  and  Benevolent  Creator. 
The  dilemma  of  Epicurus,  and  the  trilemma  of  Leibnitz,  are 
framed  on  the  same  principles.     Both  assume, — 

{a)  That  in  creating  the  system  of  the  world  (natural  and 
moral),  God  was  bound  to  make  it  the  best  possible.  This  is 
optimism,  and  is  not,  to  our  mind,  the  true  system  of  the 
universe,  so  far  as  we  can  read  its  constitution  through  the 
medium  of  our  own  consciousness  and  experience.     If  we 

*  In  his  Natural  Theology. 


RETRIBUTION  IN  THE  AFTER-LIFE. 


455 


write  a  letter,  we  are  not  bound,  nor  do  we  feel  that  we  are 
bound,  to  write  it  in  the  best  possible  characters,  or  on  the 
best  possible  paper.  It  is  enough  if  we  so  indite  it  that  it 
shall  be  easily  read,  and  thus  accomplish  its  specific  end.  So 
in  making  man  and  the  universe,  it  were  enough  if  God  framed 
them  so  as  to  fully  accomplish  the  great  end  of  subjecting  us, 
under  propitious  circumstances,  to  discipline  and  probation 
for  a  higher  life. 

[6)  Another  assumption  is  that  we  must  demonstrate  the 
permission  of  evil  to  have  been  a  necessary  incident  to  the 
system  as  originally  constituted.  This  is  the  attempt  of  Arch- 
bishop King,  and  of  Bishop  Law,  his  Commentator  and  Editor. 
We  cannot  recognize  their  argument  as  a  demonstration,  but 
we  readily  admit  the  difficulty  of  conceiving  a  system  of 
animal  life  and  enjoyment  to  which  some  pain  and  suffering 
should  not  be  a  necessary  incident.  When  we  come  to  men 
and  angels,  Moral  Evil  would  seem,  in  one  sense,  to  be  a 
necessary  possible  alternative  to  moral  good,  for  man  cannot 
attain  to  virtue  if  he  be  not  free  to  sin.  "Able  to  stand  though 
free  to  fall,"  would  seem  to  be  the  appropriate  condition  of  a 
Being  destined  for  an  advancing  course  of  knowledge,  duty, 
and  fruition.  Who  would  prefer  constraint — even  if  it  involved 
no  danger — to  freedom,  with  such  magnificent  promises  and 
prospects  as  those  with  which  man  was  at  first  crowned  ? 
Viewed  in  this  light,  we  see  at  once  that  Divine  responsibility, 
if  we  may  presume  so  to  speak,  terminated  in  making  man 
morally  free.  He  thenceforth  must  be  answerable  for  the 
entrance  of  sin. 

Sin  admitted,  who  can  say  what  might  or  must  have  been  the 
effect  of  that  catastrophe  on  the  physical  condition  of  man  and 
of  the  globe  ?  We  all  know  how  passion  can  disturb  the  func- 
tions of  life,  permanently  disease  the  organs,  and  induce  sickness 
and  death.  How  know  we  that  the  organism  of  our  bodies  was 
not  radically  and  permanently  deranged  by  the  one  great  act 
that  brought  death  into  the  world  and  all  our  woe  ?    And  how 


456 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


know  we  that  surrounding  nature,  the  instrument  of  man's 
progress  and  discipHne,  did  not  share  in  the  general  shock  ? 
There  are  affinities  between  the  material  and  spiritual  worlds 
which  we  know  not  fully,  but  of  which  we  can  conceive. 
And  is  it  not,  at  least,  possible  that,  when  the  eventful  sin  was 
perpetrated, — 

"  Earth  felt  the  wound,  and  Nature  from  her  seat, 
Sighing  through  all  her  works,  gave  signs  of  woe 
That  all  was  lost." 

There  is  another  point  of  view  in  which  we  may  consider 
evil, — i.e.  as  the  instrument  of  educing  a  greater  good ;  for 
example, — 

1.  Monitory  pains,  such  as  hunger,  inciting  to  self-preser- 
vation. 

2.  Pains  and  evils,  through  which  we  evolve  virtues  and 
high  faculties,  as  courage  through  danger,  fortitude  through 
suffering,  patience  and  magnanimity  through  injury,  energy 
and  skill  through  labor. 

3.  General  laws  seem  indispensable ;  and  yet  inseparable 
from  those  laws  may  be  particular  irregularities,  to  prevent 
which,  by  miracle  or  other  Divine  interposition,  would  be  to 
discourage  foresight  and  effort,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  un- 
settle the  constant  and  regular  course  of  nature. 

Everywhere  Evil  is  attended  with  a  multitude  of  compen- 
sations, some  of  which  come  spontaneously,  as  in  the  case 
of  death;  others  through  the  intervention  of  our  deliberate 
efforts.  In  this  way  we  might  say  to  any  form  of  woe.  Evil, 
be  thou  my  good. 

In  attempting  to  account  supernaturally  for  the  origin  of 
Evil,  the  Atheist,  of  course,  has  nothing  to  offer.  He,  again, 
who  would  represent  the  Governor  of  the  Universe  as  malig- 
nant, must  account  for  the  abounding  good  which  prevails  on 
every  side ;  and  he  who  takes  refuge  in  dualism  must  explain 
the  unity  of  design  running  alike  through  evil   and   good. 


RETRIBUTION  IN  THE  AETER-LIFE. 


457 


There  is  but  one  solution  that  meets  the  difficulty, — "  God 
made  man  upright,  but  he  hath'  sought  out  many  inventions." 
This  is  in  conformity  with  observed  facts. 

The  relation  of  the  sin  of  one  to  the  sin  of  all  is  not  really 
inconsistent  with  what  we  know  of  the  interpenetration  of  ac- 
tions and  responsibilities  which  connect  us  with  others  of  our 
own  and  of  preceding  times,  and  which  so  enlarges  our  sus- 
ceptibilities to  good  and  evil  influences  that  noiic  are  too  re- 
mote, in  space  or  time,  to  have  influence  over  our  characters 
and  destiny. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE. 

THIS    LIFE   A   STATE    OF   MORAL    PUPILAGE    FOR   THE    LIFE   TO 

COME. 

WE  propose  now  to  enter  on  the  third  of  the  four  Prob- 
lems to  be  discussed  in  connection  with  man's  destiny. 
Life  a  scene  of  Moral  Discipline  for  the  Immortahty  which  is 
beyond  death  is  our  subject,  and  the  provisions  for  this  Dis- 
ciphne,  which  are  to  be  found  especially  in  our  own  constitu- 
tion,  and  generally  in  the  objects  and  circumstances  around 
us,  will  be  briefly  noticed. 

There  are  various  branches  of  culture,  Organic  and  Phys- 
ical, Intellectual  and  ^sthetical.  Moral  and  Religious.  All 
are  necessary  to  a  full  and  high  development,  and  in  a  generous 
system  of  culture  all  should  be  carried  on  together  and  in 
due  proportion.  There  is  but  one  of  these,  however,  which  is 
within  the  reach  of  every  human  being,  and  this  happens  to 
be  that  which  is  most  essential  to  the  happiness  and  well- 
being  of  all.  It  is  this  which  we  are  to  consider  now,  and 
our  object  is  to  explain  how  everything  in  the  mind  itself— 
its  different  forms  of  culture,  the  place  and  time  to  which  it 
belongs,  the  minds  of  others,  and  even  the  material  world — 
can  be  made  subservient,  and  were  intended  to  be  made  sub- 
servient, to  our  spiritual  and  moral  progress. 

In  answering  three  questions  we  shall  be  able  to  unfold 
some  of  our  views.  These  are— i.  What  is  implied  by  this 
phrase  Moral  Discipline  as  applied  to  the  relations  between 
the  present  life  and  the  next  ?  2.  What  is  the  precise  end 
to  be  aimed  at  in  this  Moral  Training  and  Discipline,  and 
(458) 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE.  ^cg 

how  far  is  that  end  really  attained  ?  3.  Why  is  it  attained  so 
rarely? 

I.  What  is  implied  by  the  phrase  Moral  Discipline  ?  We 
answer — 

{a)  The  exercise  of  the  moral  powers.  Muscular  power  is 
developed  by  the  exercise  of  the  muscles,  as  muscular  skill  or 
adroitness  is  evolved  by  an  intelligent  and  systematic  use  of 
them.  So  intellectual  power  is  evolved  by  using  the  intel- 
lectual faculties,  and,  of  course,  the  same  principle  applies  to 
our  moral  and  spiritual  powers.  They  must  exert  their 
strength,  intelligently  and  systematically,  for  the  production 
of  definite  moral  results.  It  is  not  reading  about  duty,  con- 
versing about  it,  thinking,  or  hearing  of  it,  that  can  build  up 
the  power  and  principle  of  moral  rectitude  in  our  hearts.  We 
may  weep  under  appeals  to  our  sympathy  or  at  the  sight  of 
spectacles  of  distress.  We  may  be  thrown  into  transports  of 
indignation  over  wrong  in  others,  or  of  compunction  over  sin 
in  ourselves,  as  we  listen  to  the  appeals  of  oratory,  or  follow 
some  powerful  delineator  of  the  workings  of  human  guilt  in 
a  book  or  on  the  stage,  and  yet  not  be  one  whit  the  better  in 
the  eye  of  enlightened  Morality  or  Religion.  We  should 
most  carefully  beware  of  substituting  a  sentimental  pity  for 
the  distressed,  or  a  sentimental  admiration  for  virtue,  or  a 
sentimental  piety  which  expends  itself  in  passive  emotions,  for 
that  sterner  but  truer  and  more  earnest  principle  which  con- 
strains us  to  act  in  conformity  with  our  sentiments,  and  thus 
secures  that  by  acting  we  not  only  serve  others  but  add  to  the 
stock  of  moral  force  in  our  own  souls.  Such  spurious  substi- 
tutes are  worse  than  useless,  since  they  turn  our  attention 
from  the  only  true  method  of  moral  self-culture,  and  leave  us 
to  prefer  the  shadow  to  the  substance. 

(^)  Moral  Discipline  implies  not  effort  only,  but  effort  under 
difficulties.  We  develop  physical  power  in  our  frames  through 
obstructions  which  they  are  required  to  overcome.  We  develop 
intellectual  power  by  the  same  means  in  our  scholastic  systems, 


460 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


being  careful  in  each  case  to  proportion  the  impediments  to 
be  surmounted  to  the  strength  and  spirit  of  the  pupil.  Our 
great  Teacher  and  Parent  proceeds  in  the  same  way  in  respect 
to  our  future  moral  life.  Difficulties,  spiritual  dangers,  beset 
us  on  every  hand,  from  within  and  without.  Evil  thoughts 
that  assault  and  hurt  the  soul.  External  provocations  urging 
us  to  excess  in  that  which  is  lawful,  or  to  indulgence  in  that 
which  is  unlawful.  These,  clothed  in  every  possible  disguise, 
lie  in  ambush  through  all  our  pilgrimage,  and  make  an  up- 
right and  holy  life  one  scene  of  conflict. 

IMilton,  in  his  Arcopagitica,  has  pointed  out,  with  all  his 
force  and  opulence  of  imagery,  the  superiority  of  principles, 
thus  elicited,  trained,  and  compacted  in  the  presence  of  danger 
and  difficulty,  over  the  cloistered  unbreathcd  virtue  which 
languishes  in  the  shade  of  a  Monastic  retreat,  or  in  the  more 
peaceful  and  innocent  walks  of  ordinary  life.  His  views  have 
much  value  as  well  as  beauty,  but  he  does  not  sufficiently 
consider  that  while  the  benefits  of  extreme  temptation  to  our 
virtue  are  contingent,  the  hazards  are  certain  and  imminent. 
Here  as  everywhere  else  a  golden  mean  should  be  observed. 

(<;)  Moral  Discipline  for  a  future  life  implies  the  alternative 
betiveen  success  and  failure,  victory  and  overthroiv.  This  we 
might  infer  from  what  has  been  already  said  in  treating  of 
Retribution.  It  might  be  anticipated,  too,  from  the  very  con- 
stitution of  our  mixed  nature, — angelic  on  the  one  hand,  brutish 
on  the  other,  here  allied  to  the  whole  hierarchy  of  spiritual 
intelligences,  there  claiming  kindred  with  the  beasts  that 
perish.  How  wonderful  that  he  who  measures  the  distance 
even  of  fixed  stars  and  weighs  the  planetary  orbs  in  his  scales, 
is,  in  his  outward  form,  but  a  step  removed  "  from  a  speech- 
less animal  wandering  in  the  forests  of  Sumatra !"  What, 
then,  must  be  expected  ?  Evidently  strife  between  the  higher 
and  lower  nature,  and  a  fearful  contingency  attached  to  that 
strife.  Shall  the  one  spread  its  debasing  leaven  up  through 
all  the  other,  till  the  man  becomes  a  reasoning  and  calculating 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE.  46 1 

but  selfish  and  sensual  animal?  Or,  shall  the  other  shed  down 
its  purifying,  elevating  influence,  till  the  whole  man,  body  as 
well  as  spirit,  is  lifted  up  and  consecrated  to  duty  and  truth  ? 
What  a  fearful  alternative  !  How  easily  is  the  issue  made 
and  decided  against  us  at  every  period  of  life!  How  strenu- 
ous, then,  ought  to  be  our  exertions ! 

n.  We  would  ask,  WJiat  is  the  end  of  this  Moral  Discipline 
applied  to  us  in  part  by  others,  but  more  fully  conducted  by 
ourselves  ?  It  is  to  evolve,  by  slow  degrees,  out  of  the  new- 
born child,  out  of  that  blind  and  unreasoning  mass  of  capa- 
bilities and  susceptibilities,  the  perfect  man,  the  man  of  ingen- 
uous, upright,  manly,  self-sacrificing,  and  devout  spirit,  whose 
charities  are  large;  whose  integrity  is  unblenching;  whose  self- 
respect  and  sense  of  purity  are  quick  ;  who,  never  tiring  in  the 
service  of  God  or  man,  looks  with  little  complacency  on  him- 
self or  his  past  deeds,  but  presses  on  towards  a  higher  excel- 
lence. If  there  are  three  words  that  can  describe  him,  they 
are  these,  —  wise,  holy,  energetic.  Energy  is  the  basis,  —  an 
active,  resolute,  and  all-subduing  will,  enlightened  by  a  zvis- 
doni  that  looks  carefully  for  the  best  means  and  ends,  and 
purged  and  cleansed  by  a  vigilant  conscientiousness.  Such  an 
energy,  if  not  genius,  is  something  greatly  better  than  the  fit- 
ful, insurrectionary,  though  ever  so  brilliant,  power  called 
genius.  It  is  the  secret  of  a  Washington's  glory, — of  his  who 
was  greater  than  Washington,  St.  Paul,  and  of  Him  who,  as 
He  spake  as  never  man  spake,  so  He  lived  as  never  man  lived. 
He  combined  the  gentleness  of  a  child,  the  dutiful  spirit  of  a 
son,  the  tenderest  affection  for  friends,  and  the  readiest  pity 
for  the  sorrowing,  with  a  grandeur  of  aim,  an  irrepressible 
force  of  purpose  that  has  wrung  from  Skepticism  itself  the 
most  splendid  eulogies. 

III.  But  by  whom,  except  by  Him,  has  this  faultless  perfec- 
tion of  our  humanity  been  attained  ?  Who  has  approached 
even  near  the  symmetry,  beauty,  and  completeness  of  the  per- 
fect man  ?     Millions  of  human  beings  are  all  the  while  spring- 


462 


THE    THREE    WIT.VESSES. 


ing  into  life ;  all  start  on  the  same  career,  where  nothing  but 
strenuous  moral  effort  can  build  them  up  to  worth  and  en- 
during happiness.  All  arc  taught  by  sages  and  by  poets,  by 
priests  and  by  lawgivers,  to  conceive,  to  apprehend,  to  strug- 
gle for  faultless  moral  and  spiritual  excellence.  And  yet  not 
one  of  all  this  countless  multitude  has  ever  attained  it  except 
that  peasant  cradled  in  a  manger,  and  who,  during  his  won- 
derful ministry  of  power  and  love,  had  often  no  place  in  which 
to  lay  his  head. 

How  do  we  account  for  this  fact — but  one  perfect  man ! — 
and  he  born  of  no  human  father! — tutored  and  disciplined  in 
no  mere  earthly  school  ? 

But  one  of  two  causes  can  be  suggested  for  this  universal 
deviation  of  the  actual  from  the  ideal  or  normal  man, — this 
non-conformity  of  the  individual  to  the  great  features  of  its 
type.  The  first  is,  that  there  is  a  fault  and  infection  in  the  very 
nature  itself,  such  that  no  vis  niedicatrix^  no  self-restoring  power, 
no  recuperative  energy  of  its  own,  will  suffice  to  bring  it  back 
to  perfect  health.  The  second  is,  that  though  the  child  be  in 
a  normal  state,  the  training  to  which  it  is  subjected  in  early  life, 
and  that  to  which  it  subjects  itself  in  later  years,  is  so  abnormal 
that  deep  and  pervading  defects  must  result. 

We  doubt  not  that  both  of  these  causes  operate,  and  in  a 
full  discussion  of  the  subject  both  would  need  to  be  developed. 
We  look  at  it  here,  however,  only  from  the  natural  standpoint, 
and  as  we  find  the  human  family  now.  We  shall,  therefore, 
limit  ourselves  to  a  few  suggestions  in  respect  to  the  mistakes 
we  make  in  our  systems  of  Moral  Discipline  at  both  the 
periods  indicated  above. 

In  early  life  the  child  presents  an  object  of  unspeakable 
interest.  He  is  about  to  enter  on  the  morning  not  only  of 
this  life  but  of  an  endless  future,  and  this  dawn  of  his  eternal 
day  is  apt  to  spread  its  hue  of  light  or  darkness  over  all  that 
follows.  He  is  in  the  hands  of  others,  too,  without  self-de- 
termining power,  as  he  is  without  knowledge  or  developed 


THE   PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE. 


463 


conscience.  How  mysteriously,  at  the  very  opening  of  our 
being,  do  we  thus  meet  the  great  fact  that  pervades  aUke  the 
system  of  Nature  and  of  grace,  the  fact  that  vicarious  effort, 
the  agency  of  other  than  ourselves,  is  to  procure  for  us  much 
that  we  enjoy  or  suffer!  And  how  fearful  the  responsibility 
with  which  their  relations  to  this  little  one  charge  parents, 
nurses,  sponsors,  teachers,  guardians, — all,  indeed,  who  ap- 
proach his  tender  person  ! 

Three  eventful  periods  occur  soon  in  every  life: 

1.  The  period  of  instincts,  aimless  at  first,  but  soon  urging  to 
excess  in  appetite,  anger,  pride,  envy,  fraud.  Now  is  the  time 
to  develop  moral  self-control, — control  not  by  fear  only,  but 
also  by  moral  suasion,  and,  therefore,  self-control, — self-control 
on  the  ground  that  he  has  a  moral  Law  to  respect,  and  a 
moral  force  within  to  call  out  and  use.  How  rarely  is  due 
care  given  to  this  early  stage  of  moral  discipline! 

2.  The  period  of  awakened  and  urgent  self  consciousness,  in- 
ducing morbid  regard  to  the  opinons  of  others,  distrust  of  self, 
of  parents,  of  all  save  companions.  In  danger  as  the  child 
now  is  of  becoming  a  slave  of  custom  and  opinion,  self-reliance, 
on  principle,  is  to  be  inculcated  with  the  utmost  assiduity. 

3.  TJie  period  of  activity,  professional  or  othcrzvise,  when 
powers  are  most  concentrated,  and  the  man  too  often  be- 
comes a  mere  conventional  man,  or  a  bond-slave  of  some 
sordid  end  like  money,  or  of  some  base  appetite,  — the  highest 
powers  of  Judgment  being  brought  down  to  sense,  like  Sam- 
son grinding  at  the  mill. 


ADULT    LIFE    A    SCHOOL    OF    MORAL    AND    SPIRITUAL    SELF- 
CULTURE. 

We  desire  to  point  out  distinctly  some  of  those  provisions 
in  the  present  constitution  of  things  which  may  become 
helps  or  hindrances  in  the  work  of  Spiritual  Self-culture  ac- 
cording as  we  bear  ourselves  towards  them.     They  are  like 


464 


THE   THREE    WITNESSES. 


the  soil,  sunshine,  and  rain,  which  may  bring  to  the  husband- 
man a  luxurious  harvest  of  grain,  or  a  no  less  luxuriant  crop 
of  pestilent  weeds,  or  an  unsightly  and  sterile  waste,  according 
to  the  system  of  husbandry  he  may  adopt.  The  analogy  is 
so  just  that  Bacon,  in  his  Advanceinent  of  Learning,  proposes 
that  this  moral  husbandry,  this  work  "of  reducing  our  minds 
to  virtue  and  all  good  estate,"  shall  form  the  subject  of  a 
special  work,  to  be  denominated  the  Georgics  of  the  Mind. 
He  notes  it  as  a  work  much  needed ;  and  assuredly  such  a 
treatise  as  he  suggests,  and  gives  some  hints  for,  is  still  a  de- 
sideratum in  Literature.  A  noble  service  will  he  render  who 
shall  compose  it  in  the  large  and  philosophic  spirit  which 
such  a  theme  demands.  Too  generally  men  act  as  if  in  ma- 
ture years  they  had  done  with  the  work  of  self-culture.  Some 
one  has  said  that,  intellectually,  most  men  have  seen  their 
best  at  thirty  or  thirty-five, — that  is,  they  do  not  usually  en- 
large essentially,  after  that  period,  their  stores  either  of  valua- 
ble knowledge  or  intellectual  power.  If  this  is  even  measur- 
ably true  of  intellectual  culture,  it  is  yet  more  true  of  that 
which  aims  at  the  formation  of  the  heart  and  conscience. 
Multitudes  still  bent  on  intellectual  improvement  arel!f^ntent 
to  remain  in  moral  tone  what  education  has  made  them,  or  to 
become  what  outward  circumstances  may  prescribe.  They 
do  not  consider  that  Elementary  Education  has  failed  of  its 
only  legitimate  end  if  it  has  not  awakened  and  established 
the  spirit  of  progressive  self-culture.  They  do  not  remember 
that  all  outward  influences  may  be  subordinate  to  the  soul's 
growth  in  beauty  and  goodness  through  the  good  help  of  God 
and  through  that  living  inward  power,  which  is  like  the  organ- 
izing growing  force  in  plants.  They  are  content  to  allow  ex- 
ternal agencies  to  deposit  their  materials  about  the  character, 
and  to  petrify  into  a  solid  and  all  but  impassable  barrier  be- 
tween them  and  their  own  true  welfare,  which  is  but  another 
name  for  true  progress. 

The  materials  for  self-discipline,  to  which  we  shall  advert, 


THE   PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE. 


465 


may  be  found: — i.  In  ourselves.  2.  In  others.  3.  In  books. 
4.  In  Matter.  5.  In  the  constitution  of  the  Mind.  6.  In  Lan- 
guage. 

I.  Would  we  discover  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  a  thorough 
moral  self-culture  zvhich  spring  from  ourselves,  we  must  distin- 
guish those  {a)  which  belong  to  us  in  common  with  all  other 
men,  and  {b)  those  which  are  peculiar  to  us  as  individuals. 

{a)  Of  those  which  attach  to  us  as  men,  we  notice  but  one, 
and  this  belongs  to  our  will,  —  our  self-determining  power. 
We  use  this  term,  not  because  it  expresses  precisely  the  idea 
we  would  present,  nor  because  we  desire  to  give  in  our  adhe- 
sion to  the  philosophical  theory  which  that  term  is  sometimes 
used  to  designate.  The  power  in  man  to  which  we  refer  is 
one  peculiar  to  him,  and  it  serves  to  invest  him  at  once  with 
self-possession,  self-dominion,  and  a  capacity  for  sclfforniation. 
It  may  be  regarded  as  the  joint  result  of  the  faculties  which 
conceive  of  an  action  under  the  two  notions  of  moral  rectitude 
and  utility,  which  summon  before  the  mind  whatever  motives 
urge  to  the  performance  of  such  action,  and  which,  under  their 
urging  or  restraining  influence,  decide  to  do  or  to  neglect  what 
we  call  our  duty.  It  is  possessed  in  different  degrees  by  dif- 
ferent men,  but  by  all  is  possessed  in  its  potential  form,  so  far 
as  to  make  them  moral  persons,  and  charge  them  with  power 
for  moral  self-discipline. 

What  difficulties  attach  to  the  possession  and  exercise  of 
this  power  ?  Generally  a  vis  inertiae,  an  extreme  indisposition 
to  that  strenuous  effort  which  is  needful  in  order  to  withstand 
evil  inclinations,  to  break  up  bad  habits,  and  to  establish  good 
ones.  This  opposes  itself,  for  instance,  to  that  effort  of  atten- 
tion by  which  we  call  up  the  duty,  with  its  appropriate  mo- 
tives ;  to  that  by  which  we  steadily  and  thoroughly  survey 
both  the  duty  and  the  motives  until  we  come  to  feel  something 
of  their  appropriate  effects ;  to  that,  also,  by  which  we  recur 
to  those  topics  of  thought  in  order  to  recruit  our  declining 
faith  and  deepen  and  strengthen  the  convictions  which  com- 

30 


466 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


mand  us  to  act.  And  especially  does  it  array  itself  against 
that  effort  of  the  will  which  would  embody  our  moral  convic- 
tions in  corresponding  moral  actions.  This  last  is  all-im- 
portant ;  otherwise  the  result  of  all  our  knowledge  and  medi- 
tations will  be  but  a  sickly  sentimentalism,  or  an  ultimate 
decay  of  all  moral  sensibility.  There  is  but  one  way  in  which 
opinions  can  become  things,  and  holy  sentiments  ripen  into 
holy  principles,  and  that  is  by  right  actions  in  the  presence 
and  under  the  influence  of  right  motives.  Even  when  this 
course  is  taken,  there  is  danger  of  settling,  through  the  force  of 
habit,  into  a  mechanical  and  unspiritual,  because  not  realizing 
state.  To  keep  alive  a  generous  enthusiasm,  which  seems 
like  the  very  soul,  the  living  breath  of  virtue,  we  must  cherish 
our  original  and  most  vivid  conceptions  of  duty  and  religious 
responsibility,  and,  above  all,  must  we  invoke  His  presence  and 
aid  who  alone  can  send  down  fire  to  kindle  the  prepared  sac- 
rifice. 

{b)  The  difficulties  in  ourselves,  that  result  from  our  natural 
or  acquired  peculiarities  of  character,  can  be  met  only  by  those 
who  understand  them.  Here,  again,  thorough  self-knowledge 
is  the  condition  of  moral  self-culture.  We  must  discover,  by 
careful  observation  and  the  aid  of  others,  wherein  we  deviate 
from  the  common  type  of  a  perfect  humanity.  We  are  to  do 
this,  not  in  order  to  obliterate  our  peculiarities, — a  result  which 
is  neither  to  be  hoped  for  nor  desired :  God  has  blended  the  few 
elements  that  enter  into  the  mental  and  moral  constitution  of 
men  in  such  endlessly  various  proportions,  that  no  two  indi- 
viduals were  intended  to  be  alike ;  but  our  prevailing  faults, 
our  besetting  sins,  need  to  be  marked  and  watched.  If,  for 
example,  we  have  too  little  Imagination,  we  are  to  adopt  that 
course  of  self-education  which  will  nourish  and  invigorate  it ; 
if  we  have  too  much  love  of  power,  we  must  shun  situations  in 
which  we  could  wield  it  in  large  measure,  and  with  little  imme- 
diate responsibility.  We  should  consider  that  such  infirmities 
and  obliquities  are  ours  not  to  be  indulged,  but  to  be  treated 


THE   PROBLEM   OF  DISCIFLINE. 


467 


like  a  fractured  limb  or  an  unruly  animal,  with  such  vigorous 
and  wise  discipline  as  will  secure  their  reduction  to  the  common 
standard.  We  should  consider,  too,  that  almost  ever}'  excess 
in  one  direction  is  apt  to  be  counterbalanced  by  excess  in  the 
opposite,  as,  for  example,  irascibility  by  generosity  and  a  sense 
of  justice,  strong  sensual  appetite  by  a  strong  will  and  active 
conscientiousness ;  and  that  one  of  these  can  be  employed  in 
the  subjugation  of  the  other.  And,  again,  we  should  observe 
that  a  passion  may  be  employed  in  its  own  subjugation.  Let 
the  irascible  man  resolve  that  he  will  indulge  excessive  anger 
only  for  his  own  faults  or  the  faults  of  those  who  are  his  su- 
periors, and  who  control  his  worldly  interests,  or  that  he  will 
reserve  its  heat  and  violence  for  the  benefit  of  the  down-trod- 
den poor  man  whom  he  can  shield  against  the  extortions  of 
the  unrelenting  creditor.  Let  the  vain  man,  too  fond  of  ap- 
probation, resolve  that  he  will  accept  applause  only  for  good 
deeds  performed  from  a  worthy  motive;  and  it  shall  soon  ap- 
pear that,  even  in  respect  to  our  congenital  weaknesses  or  sins, 
we  are  not  without  means  of  effective  self  discipline.  Our  great 
resource,  however,  must  be  in  our  general  moral  force,  and  in 
the  succor  of  Him  who  delights  to  rescue  the  godly  out  of 
temptation. 

Many  of  our  peculiarities  of  character  are  superinduced  by 
education  and  habit.  Take  the  sordid,  self-seeking  man,  with 
great  energy  and  skill,  which  he  employs  only  in  the  service 
of  an  intense  and  exclusive  egotism.  He  is  to  remember  that 
this  acquired  fault,  however  imbedded  in  his  character,  is 
none  the  less  criminal,  and  that  to  combat  it  he  has  the 
strength  common  to  all  men.  He  has,  too,  a  power  and  sa- 
gacity, acquired  by  long-continued  though  perverse  exercise 
of  his  faculties,  which  may  avail  him  in  a  higher  and  holier 
service.  He  has  dormant  moral  sentiments,  which  may  be 
roused  by  meditation  and  prayer.  And  he  has  the  choice  of 
some  expedient  like  that  which  Bacon  recommends,  as  at  once 
"  the  most  compendious  and  summary,  and  also  the  most  noble 


468 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


and  effectual,  for  reducing  the  mind  to  virtue  and  all  good  estate, 
which  is  the  electing  and  propounding  unto  a  man's  self  good 
and  virtuous  ends  of  his  life,  such  as  may  be  in  a  reasonable 
sort  within  his  compass  to  gain."  This  is  safe,  for,  adds  Ba- 
con, "  By  aspiring  to  be  as  God  in  power,  angels  fell ;  by  as- 
piring to  be  as  God  in  knowledge,  man  fell;  but  by  aspiring 
to  be  as  God  in  goodness,  neither  man  nor  angels  shall  ever  fall 
or  transgress."  In  the  case  supposed,  let  the  selfish,  sordid 
man  resolve  that,  while  pursuing  his  vocation  in  life,  he  will 
see  to  it  that,  day  by  day,  he  does  as  much  good  as  possible 
to  the  greatest  number  of  persons ;  that  by  kind  words  and 
looks  and  deeds  he  scatters  sunshine  along  his  path ;  that  no 
man  shall  have  occasion  to  remember  that  through  him  he  has 
suffered  in  his  feelings,  character,  property,  or  self-respect; 
that  he  will  make  his  business  the  occasion  of  promoting  the 
welfare  of  as  many  as  possible,  and  will  hold  the  profits  of  it 
as  a  fund  for  God's  poor  and  the  world's  benefit.  How  his 
selfishness  would,  by  such  means,  insensibly  melt  away  (before 
such  self-discipline),  while  he  would  learn  that  it  is,  indeed, 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive  ! 

II.  We  now  come  to  the  occasion  for  stern  self-culture  sup- 
plied BY  OTHERS. 

At  all  times  and  places  those  about  us  may  become  our 
moral  and  spiritual  helpers  if  we  profit  by  their  benefits  and 
their  injuries,  by  their  wise  and  unwise  counsel,  if  we  use  them 
as  means  for  keeping  fresh  and  warm  our  social  and  domestic 
affections,  and  giving  play  to  all  our  virtuous  sympathies.  On 
the  other  hand,  they  will  be  sore  "  lets  and  hindrances"  if  we 
suffer  them  to  master  us,  either  by  the  wrongs  they  inflict  or 
by  the  service  they  render,  so  that  we  surrender  our  proper 
self-command  and  become,  in  the  one  case,  vindictive  and  con- 
tentious, in  the  other,  pliant  and  obsequious.  A  due  mixture 
of  self-respect  and  respect  for  others,  of  independence  and  de- 
pendence, is  the  golden  mean. 

Besides  these  difficulties  -ind  dangers  that  appertain  to  men 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE. 


469 


as  men,  there  are  further  dangers  resulting  from  the  social 
condition  of  the  age  and  land  in  which  we  live. 

In  our  own  age,  there  are  several  peculiarities  that  greatly  af- 
fect character  and  promote  or  obstruct  the  work  of  self-improve- 
ment. The  intense  and  universal  activity  which  characterizes 
it,  both  in  its  practical  and  its  speculative  side,  is  one  of  these. 
It  is  unfriendly  to  that  calm  and  comprehensive  thought,  with- 
out which  real  self-culture  in  the  heart  is  wholly  impossible. 
It  is  unfriendly,  also,  to  steady  exertion  in  any  one  line  of  im- 
provement, and  it  goes  to  unsettle  all  our  opinions,  beliefs,  and 
even  intuitive  sentiments. 

Without  specifying  the  other  dangers  to  be  apprehended 
from  the  spirit  of  the  age,  or  attempting  to  unfold  its  subtle  and 
complex  agency,  we  make  one  or  two  additional  observations. 

It  cannot  be  repeated  too  often,  that  the  most  pressing  diffi- 
culties and  dangers  from  this  as  from  other  sources,  can  be 
transformed  into  means  of  improvement,  if  met  in  a  resolute, 
enlightened,  and  conscientious  manner.  Nor  should  we  for- 
get that  the  reverse  is  equally  true  of  the  advantages  which 
distinguish  our  age,  and  which,  through  our  folly  and  per- 
verseness,  can  easily  be  converted  into  foes  to  our  moral  wel- 
fare. It  would  be  more  grateful  to  set  forth  these  advantages, 
as  it  is  always  more  pleasant  to  be  prophets  of  hope  than  of 
despondence,  and  we  rejoice  that  we  are  able  to  see  much  in 
our  times  to  inspire  gratitude  and  awaken  cheering  anticipa- 
tions. But  we  are  always  to  remember  that  no  blessing  comes 
without  its  alloy,  no  scene  of  action  or  enjoyment  opens  that 
it  is  not  surrounded  with  difficulties  to  tax  our  strength  and 
watchfulness. 

Two  mistakes  are  apt  to  be  made  in  respect  to  the  spirit  of 
the  age : — the  one  that  of  implicit  or  almost  unquestioning 
submission,  the  other  that  of  uncompromising  and  unyielding 
resistance.  These  errors  are  apt  to  coexist  at  the  same  time, 
but  in  different  persons,  and  they  tend,  of  course,  to  produce 
or  to  aggravate  each  other.    By  the  first  we  are  robbed  of  our 


4J0  ^-^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

personality  and  proper  power,  and  instead  of  contributing  to 
modify  and  improve  our  age,  we  yield  implicitly  to  its  mould- 
ing influence.  By  the  second  we  cut  ourselves  loose  from  the 
sympathies  and  correct  apprehensions  of  others,  are  led  to  at- 
tempt impracticable  tasks,  and  sink  by  degrees  into  apathy 
and  misanthropy.     Both,  therefore,  are  dangerous. 

The  danger  from  resistance  is  twofold  : — that  of  renouncing 
the  present  in  favor  of  the  past,  and  that  of  renouncing  the 
same  present  in  anticipation  of  an  imagined  future.  Those 
who  take  these  opposite  courses  stand  like  travellers  in  the 
midst  of  an  Eastern  desert,  seeming  to  see  pleasant  fountains 
both  before  and  behind  them.  The  evils  that  we  now  have 
we  feel  painfully,  but  distance  and  delusion  conceal  those 
which  lie  in  the  remote  of  past  or  coming  time,  and  hence  we 
see  two  schools  of  Social  and  Religious  Reformers, — the  wor- 
shippers of  the  Future  and  the  Blind  devotees  of  the  past. 
Both  forget  that  evils  are  inseparable  from  man's  present  con- 
dition, that  they  are  part  of  his  necessary  discipline,  and  that 
the  progress  of  society  can  only  remove  the  more  gross  and 
sensible  evils  to  substitute  such  as  belong  more  intimately  to 
the  mind.  The  improvement  of  our  higher  nature,  and  prep- 
aration for  another  scene,  is  the  grand  end  of  the  "  few  and 
evil  days  of  our  earthly  pilgrimage,"  and  that  mind  only  ap- 
prehends or  performs  its  mission  which  sets  this  object  ever 
before  it.  It  is  the  most  effectual  means,  too,  to  abridge  the 
sufferings  and  enlarge  the  enjoyments  of  men  on  earth;  but 
that  is  a  consummation  to  be  expected  only  in  a  degree. 

III.  We  notice  briefly  the  moral  and  spiritual  danger  to  be 
apprehended  from  Books.  By  these  we  can,  if  we  please,  trans- 
late ourselves  from  the  present  age  or  place,  and  become  sur- 
rounded with  that  which  belongs  to  a  past  era  in  history  or 
to  a  distant  land.  This  is  often  a  process  most  useful  in  order 
to  understand  our  historical  position,  and  that  we  may  qualify 
ourselves  for  its  duties.  The  further  use  of  books  as  counsel- 
lors and  comforters,  as   instruments  through  which  we  can 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE. 


471 


employ,  with  equal  profit  and  delight,  all  our  meditative  and 
imaginative  powers,  we  need  hardly  insist  upon.  They  invest 
those  who  use  them  with  a  more  than  fabled  power.  Suppose 
that  by  a  wave  of  the  hand  we  could  summon  round  us  the 
mighty  dead, — Moses  and  Solon,  David  and  Homer,  Solomon 
and  Plato,  Paul  and  Seneca,  of  ancient  time,  or  Bacon  and 
Boyle,  Locke  and  Leibnitz,  Pascal  and  Grotius,  Shakspeare  and 
Milton,  of  later  days, — and  with  these  join  the  master-spirits  of 
our  own  time,  that  we  could  listen  to  their  discourse  ourselves 
as  each,  in  his  own  language  and  in  the  spirit  and  philosophy 
of  his  own  time,  sets  forth  his  views  of  God  and  man  and  Na- 
ture, and  of  the  events  and  interests  that  most  concern  man- 
kind. All  this  is  done  in  substance,  though  not  in  form,  by 
those  who  surround  themselves  with  the  living  influence  of 
good  books.  A  diligent  and  thoughtful  reader  not  only  con- 
verses with  the  good  and  wise  of  all  times  and  lands,  but  he 
hears  them  when  uttering  their  most  weighty  thoughts,  and 
breathed  upon  by  the  sweetest  odors  of  fancy  or  the  divinest 
inspirations  of  passion  and  imagination. 

Yet  here,  as  elsewhere,  there  is  an  alternative.  As  there 
are  good  books,  so  there  are  bad  ones ;  and  as  good  books 
wisely  used  are  an  inestimable  help  in  self-culture,  so  when 
used  unwisely  even  the  best  of  them  may  become  hindrances. 
There  are  two  questions,  then,  in  this  connection  for  him  who 
is  bent  on  spiritual  self-culture: — first,  zvJiat  shall  he  read? 
and  second,  hoiu  shall  he  read? 

In  respect  to  the  first,  we  need  hardly  say  that  we  are  not 
prepared  to  restrict  the  reading  of  those  who  are  earnest  for 
progress  in  the  moral  and  religious  life  to  books  professedly 
religious.  The  play  which  is  given  to  the  faculties  through 
other  literature,  as  well  as  the  knowledge  with  which  it 
abounds,  may  conduce  vastly  to  a  culture  strictly  religious. 
But  as  moral  beings,  charged  with  the  education  of  our  own 
hearts,  we  must  use  discrimination,  and  we  should  apply,  first 
and  foremost,  moral  tests  to  the  books  we  read.     And  in  this 


4^2  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

age,  when  every  species  of  Literature  is  made  the  vehicle  of 
philosophical  opinions,  History,  Novels,  Poetry,  and  Satire 
being  in  truth  the  most  powerful  Teachers  of  that  which  calls 
itself  the  philosophy  of  progress,  a  twofold  test  must  be  ap- 
plied, especially  to  works  emanating  from  the  Imagination, — 
the  first  regarding  them  as  literary,  the  second,  as  philo- 
sophical. 

As  literary,  let  them  be  tried  by  these  criteria  [a): — Do  they 
improve  and  refine  our  taste  for  the  beautiful  in  Nature  ?  Do 
they  strengthen  our  reverence  for  goodness,  deepen  our  hor- 
ror and  contempt  for  wickedness,  cause  our  passions  to  move 
only  at  the  command  of  virtue,  never  enlisting  our  sympathies 
or  approbation  in  behalf  of  the  unprincipled,  the  licentious, 
or  the  purely  frivolous  ? 

(^)  Do  they  keep  alive  the  freshness  of  our  natural  tastes 
and  affections, — the  child's  heart  in  the  man's  breast  ? 

{c)  Do  they  impel  to  an  active  rather  than  a  passive 
virtue? 

As  philosophical,  we  consider  only  the  popular  and  fa- 
vorite theme  Progress.  In  respect  to  such  works,  we  should 
ask, — 

{a)  Does  this  philosophy  leave,  as  a  living  impression,  the 
lesson  that  individual  moral  self-culture  is  the  great  thing  ?  or 
does  it  lose  itself  in  declamation  about  the  progress  of  the 
Race,  while  its  views  of  man's  individual  destiny  and  capacity 
are  of  the  most  gloomy  or  vague  description  ? 

{b)  Does  it  lose  sight  of  the  truth  that  we  buy  all  our  bless- 
ings at  a  price ;  that  neither  individual  nor  social  progress 
comes  spontaneously ;  that  we  must  labor  and  deny  ourselves, 
and  when  we  transgress  this  great  law,  must  experience  such 
pains  and  penalties  as  the  Governor  of  the  Universe  has  or- 
dered? Let  us  beware  of  maudlin  sympathy  for  criminals  and 
for  the  improvident  or  vicious  or  idle  poor. 

[c]  Does  it  recognize  the  whole  of  man,  both  in  himself  and 
in  his  relations  to  God  and  Nature,  to  Time  and  Eternity  ?  or 


THE   PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE. 


473 


is  it  occupied  with  self-contemplation,  seeing  only  itself  in 
Nature,  and  even  in  God  ?  Then  it  is  the  Philosophy  of  Pride 
and  Vanity,  and  utterly  inadequate  to  the  work  of  individual 
or  social  amelioration. 

IV.  Matter  a  Moral  Disciplinarian.  We  find  ourselves  con- 
nected with  two  different  systems  of  matter, — one  pertaining 
to  our  own  persons,  made  up  of  living  organs,  which  we  contin- 
ually employ  in  mental  and  physical  functions,  and  which  we 
call  our  bodies;  the  other  without,  and  independent  of,  our- 
selves, composed  of  a  vast  variety  of  objects,  animate  and  in- 
animate. A  most  important  part,  both  of  our  intellectual  and 
of  our  spiritual  culture, — of  our  preparation  for  a  higher  and 
holier  life, — seems  to  result  from  the  intimate  relations  which 
we  sustain  to  matter.  Our  bodies,  considered  by  themselves, 
serve  a  great  purpose  in  the  education  of  the  Soul ;  but  they 
are  found  to  serve  that  purpose  much  more,  when  we  consider 
them  as  media  through  which  the  mind  is  to  develop  its 
powers  by  acting  on  the  matter  of  the  external  universe  and 
by  experiencing  again  the  reactive  force  of  that  universe  upon 
itself 

At  the  outset,  in  infancy,  the  powers  of  the  soul  are  dor- 
mant. Matter  makes  its  impressions  on  the  organs  of  sense. 
These  impressions  rouse  the  soul  to  observe,  remember,  com- 
pare, and  infer ;  and  thus  the  education  of  the  senses,  the 
early  processes  of  perception,  become  all-important  means  of 
mental  development.  Perception  is  soon  followed  by  desire, 
and  by  voluntary  motion ;  the  child  wakes  to  the  conscious- 
ness of  power ;  Imagination  goes  abroad  on  its  excursions ; 
relations  are  established  with  others  ;  and  at  every  step  there 
is  exercise  not  only  for  the  mental  but  also  for  the  moral  fac- 
ulties,— for  self-restraint,  for  obedience  to  rightful  authority, 
for  justice,  fortitude,  kindness,  forbearance,  generosity.  While 
the  child  rises  from  helpless  infancy  to  adolescence,  he  uses 
almost  spontaneously  the  external  World  as  his  great  Teacher 
and  Disciplinarian,  and  the  manner,  the  moral  purpose,  with 


474 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


which  he  is  led  to  use  it,  will  determine  materially  the  charac- 
ter for  good  or  evil  which  he  forms. 

So  when  we  consider  the  necessities  of  the  body  for  food  and 
raiment,  for  light,  air,  and  heat.  The  voluntary  agency  of 
man  must  be  interposed  in  order  to  adjust  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  these  to  the  delicate  organism  of  our  bodies,  and 
to  the  ever-varying  tastes  of  individuals  and  nations.  In  pro- 
curing the  materials  for  food,  raiment,  and  habitation,  and  pre- 
paring them  for  use,  a  large  part  of  all  the  Industry  of  the 
world  is  employed  ;  and  in  the  efforts  of  that  Industry  man's 
moral  nature  is  all  the  while  on  trial.  Matter  thus  becomes 
our  schoolmaster ;  and  if  we  avail  ourselves  conscientiously 
and  patiently  of  its  manifold  opportunities,  we  shall  not  fail  of 
rising  to  a  lofty  stature  of  virtue.  The  poor  widow,  in  her 
lone  garret,  struggling  against  want,  ashamed  to  beg,  disdain- 
ing to  steal,  watching  over  her  little  ones,  and  leaning  with 
unfailing  trust  on  God  and  her  own  courageous  heart,  shall 
mount  up  to  a  moral  pinnacle  which  kings  might  envy.  Out 
of  her  corporeal  necessities  and  those  of  her  children  she  ex- 
tracts material  for  the  noblest  spiritual  growth.  Lazarus, 
clutching  at  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  the  rich  man's  table, 
because  he  uses  his  poverty  well,  is  carried  by  the  angels  into 
Abraham's  bosom,  while  Dives,  because  he  abuses  the  abun- 
dance in  which  he  revels,  lifts  up  his  eyes  in  torments.  Thus  the 
noblest  moral  trophies  can  be  won  on  the  humblest  theatre,  as 
they  may  be  easily  and  irretrievably  lost  on  that  which  the 
world  most  honors. 

Riches,  which  are  but  another  name  for  superabundant 
material  possessions,  are  styled  by  Bacon  "  the  baggage  {ini- 
pediuicnta)  of  virtue."  Experience  proves  that  they  are  so, 
since  they  who  have  great  riches  with  difficulty  attain  to  the 
simplicity,  the  humility,  the  beneficence,  or  the  integrity  which 
go  to  make  up  spiritual  wealth.  Neither  is  extreme  poverty 
favorable  to  moral  self-culture,  since  the  very  indigent  are 
sorely  tempted  to  discontent,  envy,  deceit,  and  distrust  of 


THE   PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE. 


A7^ 


God.  The  prayer  of  Agur,  "give  me  neither  poverty  nor 
riches,"  points  with  the  precision  of  Divine  Wisdom  to  that 
path  where  the  things  that  a  man  possesseth  are  most  hkely 
to  conduce  to  his  spiritual  improvement.  "  Seek,"  says  Bacon, 
"no  more  than  you  can  get  justly,  use  soberly,  distribute 
cheerfully,  and  leave  contentedly." 

Everything  in  the  relation  of  our  bodies  to  the  external 
world  affords  occasion  for  moral  self-culture.  Of  the  aliments 
which  are  offered  to  us,  some  are  both  useful  and  agreeable, 
others  are  more  agreeable  than  useful ;  some  are  agreeable 
but  hardly  innocuous,  and  others  are  in  a  vast  proportion  of 
cases  noxious  though  pleasant.  Of  the  last,  the  pleasure 
which  they  afford  is  immediate,  and  often  vivid,  while  the 
injury  which  they  are  to  inflict  may  appear  remote  and  con- 
tingent. What  a  sphere  opens  here  for  forecast,  self-denial, 
and  discrimination !  Even  where  food  is  innocuous  in  its 
physical  effects,  it  may  exert  a  retroactive  influence  on  the 
mental  or  moral  nature,  which  is  to  be  deprecated.  The 
irascible  and  libidinous  need  a  diet  very  different  from  the 
gentle  and  pure.  Some  should  beware  of  too  much  animal 
food,  some  of  too  much  vegetable.  Some  need  the  chastise- 
ment of  a  fast,  some  the  cordial  excitement  of  a  feast.  Even 
in  regulating  the  quantity  of  light  and  air  and  heat  which  we 
live  in,  there  is  room  for  a  conscientious  and  thoughtful  self- 
discipline.  A  certain  portion  of  natural  light  is  necessary  to 
the  highest  physical  and  mental  condition,  and  to  ascertain 
this  portion  and  secure  it  becomes  a  duty.  It  is  the  same 
with  every  other  external  agent  which  acts  upon  the  health 
of  body  or  of  mind. 

The  BODY  itself  is  a  powerful  agent  in  the  work  of  Moral 
Discipline.  Is  it  in  full  health,  out  of  that  health  spring 
moral  dangers  as  well  as  advantages.  Is  it  deformed,  or  sub- 
ject to  hereditary  disease,  or  marked  by  congenital  peculiari- 
ties, each  of  these  circumstances  is  a  challenge  to  increased 
earnestness  and  vigilance  in  the  work  of  self  mastery.     It  is  a 


476 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


loud  call,  also,  upon  the  sympathy,  the  assistance,  and  the 
delicate  consideration  of  friends  and  companions.  And  since 
all  are  liable  to  sickness,  all  are  to  guard  against  it  by  an  in- 
telligent and  faithful  use  of  preventive  measures.  When  suf- 
fering from  its  visitation,  they  are  to  use  all  proper  remedial 
means,  and  are  to  qualify  their  sufferings  with  kindness  to- 
wards others,  with  patience  and  resignation  towards  God. 
They  are  never  to  forget  that  their  souls  are  supplied  with  an 
almost  inexhaustible  store  of  moral  force,  whereby  they  can 
withstand  the  depressing  effects  of  disease  or  adverse  physical 
circumstances,  and  transform  them  into  means  of  spiritual 
self-improvement,  and  gradually  rise  not  only  to  dominion 
over  themselves,  but  also  over  their  material  organism,  and  in 
some  sense  even  over  the  external  world.  It  is  delightful  to 
observe  how  the  soul,  in  childhood  and  youth,  almost  wholly 
controlled  by  external  objects  and  impressions,  can,  through 
a  normal  course  of  culture  and  development,  gradually  eman- 
cipate itself  from  the  slavery  of  the  senses,  and  come  in 
old  age  even  to  look  upon  the  body  as  a  clog  and  an  in- 
cumbrance. 

We  have  merely  touched  here  upon  a  great  theme,  which 
deserves  ampler  development.  What  we  have  said  may  sug- 
gest the  Final  Cause  of  the  intimate  relations  in  which  we 
have  been  placed  towards  matter.  It  is  one  of  the  grand  instru- 
ments appointed  by  God  to  subject  us  to  trial  and  discipline. 
One  of  the  chief  means  through  which  we  work  our  way  to 
indefectible  purity  and  glory  or  to  remediless  shame  and 
misery.  He  takes  but  a  narrow  view  of  man's  body  who  re- 
gards it  as  a  mere  contrivance  for  elaborating  organs  out  of 
germ-cells  and  cellular  tissue,  for  carrying  on  the  chemistry 
of  life,  and  upholding  the  machinery  of  bones  and  sinews, 
nerves  and  muscles.  Man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone.  As 
a  self-conscious  and  responsible  agent,  under  education  for  a 
better  life,  he  needs  an  organism  through  which  he  can  render 
all  Nature  subservient  to  his  moral  needs ;  and  He  who  has 


THE   PROBLEM  OF  DISCIPLINE. 


477 


given  him  a  frame  so  wonderfully  and  fearfully  made,  is  there- 
fore more  than  a  mere  mechanician,  more  than  a  smith  or 
Vulcan.  He  is  a  Father  and  Judge,  a  moral  Governor  and 
Disciplinarian,  who  gives  liberally  to  his  offspring,  but  pro- 
claims that  to  whom  much  is  given  of  them  much  will  be 
required. 

V.  Mind  its  oivn  Moral  Disciplinarian.  As  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  Nature  and  in  the  relations  which  we  sustain  to  it  we 
see  manifold  provisions  for  the  moral  discipline  of  the  soul,  so 
it  is  in  the  constitution  of  that  soul  itself  Its  intellectual 
powers,  its  moral  sentiments  and  capacities,  its  affections  and 
susceptibilities,  are  all  so  many  occasions  for  the  exercise  of 
moral  self-culture.  Every  faculty  and  susceptibility  is  to  be 
developed  by  exercise ;  and  every  step  of  that  development 
requires,  on  our  part,  watchfulness  and  conscientious  self-mas- 
tery. Self -formation  is  our  great  work  in  this  life,  and  it  is  a 
work  in  which  we  may  ignominiously  fail  or  triumphantly  suc- 
ceed. The  understanding  may  be  reared  to  the  love  and 
gradual  comprehension  of  all  truth  ;  or  it  may  become  in- 
fested with  hateful  error  and  be  brought  to  love  darkness 
rather  than  light.  So  with  the  Heart,  the  Conscience,  the  Im- 
agination, and  the  Taste.  Each  may  be  a  means  of  mislead- 
ing the  others,  and  each  may  itself  become  essentially  and 
hopelessly  corrupted  ;  as,  on  the  other  hand,  each  may,  through 
a  true  self-culture,  become  our  helper  and  joy.  This  species 
of  self-discipline,  however,  opens  so  wide  a  field  for  remark 
that  we  can  merely  indicate  it  here.  As  matter  and  mind  is 
each  in  itself  a  school  for  self-discipline,  so  there  is  another 
which  is  intermediate  between  them,  and  to  which  we  shall 
call  attention  for  a  moment. 

VI.  Language  a  School  of  Moral  Discipline.  In  its  functions^ 
language  is  essentially  spiritual  ;  but  in  its  instruments  it  is 
both  corporeal  and  material.  In  ordinary  discourse,  we  use 
the  organs  of  the  body;  in  the  Arts  of  Design,  which  form  a 
species  of  language,  we  use  inorganic  material  substances. 


4/3  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Language,  or  the  power  oi  expression,  is  possessed  in  greater 
or  less  degrees  by  every  sensitive  and  intelligent  being  that  is 
known  to  us.  Wherever  there  is  feeling,  thought,  purpose,  or 
volition,  there  we  find  some  corresponding  power  of  manifesta- 
tion. Gestures,  attitudes,  instinctive  cries,  are  all  significant 
of  internal  or  subjective  conditions.  And  when  we  ascend  in 
the  scale  of  being,  we  find  that,  as  the  mental  capacities  are 
nobler  and  more  comprehensive,  in  the  same  proportion  the 
faculty  of  utterance  or  expression  is  more  developed.  In 
nothing,  perhaps,  is  man's  supremacy  more  obvious  than  in 
the  transcendent  gifts  of  language  with  which  he  is  endowed. 
To  a  natural  language,  vastly  richer  and  more  varied  than 
any  animal's,  has  been  added  the  power  oi  speech  by  means  of 
articulate  sounds.  The  all-important  part  which  this  kind  of 
language  bears  in  the  Education  and  operations  of  the  soul 
must  be  evident,  when  we  compare  the  condition  of  the  unin- 
structed  deaf  mute  with  ordinary  persons  of  the  same  age,  or 
with  himself,  after  he  has  but  imperfectly  mastered  that  best 
substitute  for  speech, — the  art  of  writing. 

Language,  like  all  our  other  endowments,  puts  lis  npon  trial. 
It  opens  communication  between  our  souls  and  other  beings, 
created  and  uncreated.  It  makes  intercourse  with  the  Su- 
preme Being  possible.  He  speaks  to  us  through  his  wor  s 
(Nature  is  a  language),  through  his  ways  (Providence  is  a  lan- 
guage), and  through  his  Written  Word.  We  speak  to  Him 
in  praise  and  prayer  and  adoration,  whether  by  word  or  act. 
Language  makes  it  possible,  too,  that  we  should  know  some- 
thing of  the  subjective  states  even  of  animals,  of  their  desires 
and  feelings,  while  between  man  and  man  it  is  the  great  bond 
of  union  and  instrument  of  co-operation.  It  is  to  the  intel- 
lectual and  moral  life  of  society  what  capital  is  to  its  indus- 
trial or  material  life.  Used  aright,  it  is  the  parent  of  bound- 
less blessing ;  abused,  it  is  the  source  of  immeasurable  ill. 

In  acquiring  the  use  of  his  senses  in  perception,  the  child 
passes,  as  we  have  seen,  through  a  most  important  stage  of 


THE  PROBLEM   OF  DISCIPLINE.  470 

education.  He  passes  through  another  stage  in  the  acqui- 
sition, first,  of  his  native  language ;  then  of  other  tongues. 
His  intellectual  and  moral  faculties  are  all  engaged  in  the 
work,  and  the  results  to  his  character  depend  on  the  manner 
in  which  his  own  part  and  that  of  others,  connected  with  his 
training  and  education,  have  been  fulfilled.  When  once  mas- 
tered, language,  like,  knowledge,  becomes  2i power,  and  it  is  a 
power  for  evil  as  well  as  good.  It  invests  us  with  fearful  sway- 
over  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  others.  It  clothes  us  with 
an  awful  prerogative  in  respect  to  ourselves,  and  it  gives  to  all 
who  speak  to  us  by  voice  or  pen  a  like  prerogative.  We  need 
not  wonder,  then,  at  the  pregnant  maxims  which  have  been 
multiplied  on  this  subject, — "  If  any  man  offend  not  in  word, 
the  same  is  a  perfect  man ;"  "  If  any  one  among  you  seem  to 
be  religious  and  bridleth  not  his  tongue,  but  deceiveth  his  own 
heart,  that  man's  religion  is  vain ;"  "  By  thy  words  thou  shalt 
be  justified,  and  by  thy  words  thou  shalt  be  condemned." 

Words,  looks,  gestures,  acts,  all  become  signs ;  nor  are  they 
only  signs :  they  are  also  means.  For  instance,  in  moral  and 
religious  self-culture,  if  we  are  sincerely  and  earnestly  bent 
on  improvement,  we  shall  find  that,  to  use  the  sign  appropriate 
to  any  temper  or  disposition  of  mind,  will  contribute  much  to 
induce  such  disposition  and  to  make  it  a  habit  of  the  soul. 
To  look  pleasantly  is  a  way,  as  the  child  knows,  which  helps 
us  to  feel  pleasantly.  To  do  an  act  which  is  significant  of 
kindness  and  good  will,  promotes  the  corresponding  state  of 
heart ;  and  on  the  same  principle  outward  acts  of  worship  to- 
wards God,  performed  with  a  reverent  spirit,  react  powerfully 
and  benignly  on  the  spirit  of  devotion  in  the  soul. 


CHAPTER   IV. 
THE  PROBLEM  OF  REDEMPTION. 

WE  have  had  occasion,  more  than  once,  to  refer  to 
the  actual^  as  deviating  greatly  from  the  Jiormal,  in 
human  nature.  While  in  the  animal  and  vegetable  worlds 
almost  every  individual  conforms  to  the  fundamental  type  of 
the  species,  in  our  race  non-conformity  seems,  at  present,  to  be 
the  rule.  Made  for  duty  more  than  for  anything  else,  man 
usually  postpones  it  to  interest,  to  pleasure,  or  to  passion. 
Made  to  remember  God  in  all  his  ways,  and  to  regard  Him 
with  supreme  reverence  and  affection,  he  continually  prefers 
the  creature  to  the  Creator,  and  loves  the  praise  of  men  more 
than  the  praise  of  God.  And  this  seems  to  arise  less  from 
extraneous  causes  than  from  an  essential  proclivity  of  man's 
heart  in  its  present  state, — one  which  leads  him,  while  prefer- 
ring the  better  to  follow  the  wonse,  and  which  has  wrung  from 
serious  minds,  in  every  age  and  land,  the  bitter  confession, 
"What  I  would,  that  I  do  not;  but  what  I  hate,  that  do  I." 

This  all-prevailing  moral  derangement  in  our  souls — the 
very  fault  and  infection  of  nature — is  witnessed  to  us  by  our 
own  consciousness,  by  the  testimony  of  the  best  and  wisest  men 
in  Pagan  Lands,  and  by  the  collective  experience  of  six  thou- 
sand years.  Our  hearts  distinctly  teach  that  we  ought  to  pre- 
fer the  right  and  the  true  before  all  things ;  and  yet  that  we 
fail  to  do  it  if  left  to  our  natural  strength.  Those  hearts 
proclaim  that  the  present  and  transitory  ought  not  to  be 
exalted,  as  it  is,  above  the  enduring  future ;  that  the  selfish 
affections  ought  not  to  triumph  over  the  social,  the  earthly 
over  the  heavenly  and  divine.  That  we  are  thus  "  lost  by 
(  480  ) 


THE   PROBLEM  OF  REDEMPTION. 


481 


nature"  is  the  witness,  then,  of  our  own  souls,  and  it  is  con- 
firmed by  all  that  we  see  among  men.  They  who  profess  to 
make  least  account  of  man's  native  depravity  are  as  ready  as 
others  to  assume,  in  practice,  his  violent  tendency  to  a  selfish, 
unspiritual  life.  The  mere  man  of  the  world  admits  that  his 
faith  in  human  nature  is  apt  to  become  weaker  the  longer  he 
observes  and  the  more  he  deals  with  it.  And  the  maxims 
which  regulate  the  intercourse  of  men  everywhere, — to  what  a 
mournful  extent  do  they  proceed  upon  principles,  not  of  mu- 
tual confidence,  but  of  mutual  distrust !  Add  to  all  this  the 
confessions  of  good  men,  speaking  out  of  the  fulness  of  their 
own  humiliating  experience,  the  despairing  lamentations  of 
those  who  had  tried  in  vain  the  resources  of  man's  unaided 
wisdom,  and  the  monuments  of  its  own  imbecility  which  the 
world  has  reared,  when  left  to  itself,  with  no  Revelation,  no 
Saviour. 

The  impotence  of  Philosophy  stands  confessed  in  its  history 
and  in  the  admissions  of  its  noblest  representatives.  Take  the 
four  great  schools  of  ancient  time,  and  we  find  that,  respecting 
God  and  his  relation  to  the  zuorld,  this,  according  even  to  Gib- 
bon, was  the  best  they  achieved :  "  The  Stoics,  not  conceiving 
of  the  creation  of  matter,  did  not  sufficiently  distinguish  the 
workman  from  his  work ;  the  Platonists  made  their  spiritual 
God  an  idea  rather  than  a  substance;  the  Academics  doubted 
whether  there  were  a  God  ;  and  the  Epicureans  boldly  denied 
Him." 

In  respect  to  the  Iinmortality  of  the  soul,  Gibbon,  whose 
erudition  will  not  be  questioned,  affirms,  "The  writings  of 
Cicero  represent,  in  most  lively  colors,  the  ignorance,  the 
errors,  and  the  uncertainty  of  the  ancient  philosophers  with 
regard  to  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  When  they  are  de- 
sirous of  arming  their  disciples  against  the  fear  of  death,  they 
inculcate,  as  an  obvious  though  melancholy  position,  that  the 
fatal  stroke  of  our  dissolution  releases  us  from  the  calamities 
of  life,  and  that  those  can  no   longer  sufier  who  no  longer 

31 


482 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


exist."  The  ignorance  of  man  on  all  religious  questions,  his 
deep  moral  degeneracy,  and  his  hopeless  condition  if  left  to 
himself,  is  the  theme  alike  of  poets,  moralists,  and  sages,  and 
is  touched  upon  with  special  force  by  Socrates,  Plato,  and 
Aristotle  among  the  Greeks,  by  Cicero,  Seneca,  and  Juvenal 
among  the  Latins.  Said  Socrates,  "  Yc  may  give  up  all  hopes 
of  amending  men's  manners  for  the  future  unless  God  be  pleased 
to  instruct  you!'  And  Plato  declares,  "Whatever  is  set  aright 
and  is  as  it  should  be  in  the  present  evil  state  of  the  world, 
can  be  so  only  by  the  particular  interposition  of  God."^  Both 
these  great  men  anticipated  the  advent  of  a  Teacher  and  Sa- 
viour sent  from  God ;  and  speaking  of  Platonism,  and  its  re- 
lation to  Christianity,  Ackerman  has  well  said,  "  The  essence 
of  Christianity  consists  in  its  remedial  power ;  that  of  Platon- 
ism, in  aiming  to  reach  such  remedy." 

Thus,  when  it  looks  inwardly  upon  itself,  and  outwardly 
upon  its  achievements  in  time,  the  soul  confesses  to  self-distrust 
and  self-despair.  For  effectual  self-restoring  power,  it  looks 
away  from  earth,  crying,  "  Cease  ye  from  man,  whose  breath 
is  in  his  nostrils  ;"  "  Soul,  thou  hast  destroyed  thyself;  in  God 
alone  is  thy  help."  And  that  help  must  come  in  the  shape  of 
clearer  instruction^  of  more  efficacious  assistatice,  of  more  certain 
ground  for  the  pardon  of  sin.     Has  it  come  ? 

*  Plato  in  Apolog.  Socratis,  and  Plato  de  Repub.,  lib.  vi.  See  also  Plato  in 
Alcibiad.,  ii. ;  Plato  in  Phsedone ;  Plato  in  Epimenide ;  Plato  de  Legibus,  etc. 
Also  the  Tusculan  Questions  of  Cicero,  the  Satires  of  Juvenal,  etc.;  the  Phse- 
drus  of  Plato;  Aristot.  Metaphys.,  lib.  ii.  cap.  ii. 


PART  IV. 


The  Bible  a  Witness. 


THE  BIBLE  A  WITNESS. 

GOD  has  spoken  to  the  world  through  Nature  and  through 
Man.  Is  it  not  hkely  that,  as  a  Father  and  a  Lawgiver, 
He  would  also  speak  through  articulate  language,  the  most 
perfect  organ  of  communication  known  to  us?  Such  a  Parent 
and  Ruler  is  likely  to  omit  no  means  for  expressing  his  good 
will  towards  his  offspring  and  subjects,  no  opportunity  of 
testifying  solicitude  for  their  welfare.  Were  there,  then,  no 
special  need  of  it.  He  would  still  be  moved  by  his  own  abound- 
ing affection  to  multiply  expressions  of  regard.  Extreme  need, 
however,  as  we  have  seen,  does  exist  in  a  threefold  sense ;  so 
that  the  anterior  probability  of  a  zurittcn  Revelation  is  suffi- 
ciently clear. 

And  there  is  a  Book  which  claims  to  contain  such  Revela- 
tion. It  claims  to  embody  a  scheme  of  Redemption  for  man 
as  a  sinner,  who  needs  pardon,  illumination^  and  spiritual 
succor.  It  is  called  the  Bible,  or  the  Book,  and  whatever  may 
be  its  origin,  it  certainly  deserves  attention.  As  a  psycho- 
logical phenomenon,  a  fact  in  the  history  of  literature  and  of 
man,  it  can  hardly  fail  to  arrest  the  notice,  as  it  is  entitled  to 
the  profound  consideration,  of  every  philosophic  mind. 

The  previous  parts  of  this  work  have  grown  so  much  upon 
our  hands  that  no  room  is  left  for  the  full  development  of  the 
argument  which  we  proposed  to  present  here.  It  will  be  re- 
served, therefore,  for  another  Treatise.  We  merely  indicate 
some  of  its  leading  positions,  without  attempting  to  enforce 
them  by  the  appropriate  proofs  and  illustrations. 

The  history  of  this  Book  is  remarkable.  It  is  the  work  of  at 
least  thirty  different  pens,  wielded  by  men  in  every  possible 
rank   and  profession   in   life,  from  kings  to  herdsmen,  from 

(485) 


486  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Judges  and  Lawgivers  to  taxgatherers  and  fishermen.  They 
lived  in  different  and  distant  countries,  were  many  of  them 
"  unlearned  and  ignorant  men,"  and  wrote  through  fifteen 
hundred  years.  Many  a  name  of  Greek  or  Roman  celebrity, 
down  to  the  age  of  Trajan,  has  its  contemporary  in  the  muster- 
roll  of  those  who  contributed  to  make  up  this  volume  ;  and 
it  contains  allusions  to  the  events  of  every  age,  and  the  char- 
acteristics of  every  people  known  to  History  for  thousands  of 
years.  No  book,  tJia'cforc,  ever  had  so  many  points  of  contact 
with  the  history  and  civilization  of  the  world,  and  if  not  founded 
in  truth,  no  book  was  evet  so  venerable. 

And  yet  this  alone  of  all  books  has  won  to  itself  the  name 
of  the  Bible.  This  is  that  book  which  has  associated  itself  with 
the  welfare  of  nations  and  individuals  as  no  book  besides  has 
done  in  all  the  world  through  all  time.  This  book  is  at  this 
moment  the  stay  of  more  earnest,  upright  hearts,  the  solace 
of  more  mourners,  the  inspiring  cause  of  more  heroic  self- 
sacrifices  for  God  and  for  humanity,  than  all  other  books  put 
tosrether.  How  is  this  to  be  accounted  for  ?  Were  it  from 
man  only,  could  it  possibly  have  gained  a  position  and  a 
power  so  disproportioned  to  its  source;  and  do  not  its  history 
and  achievements,  more  even  than  the  celestial  firmament, 
declare  the  glory  of  God  and  shozv  forth  his  handiivork  ? 

As  this  Book  embraces  History,  Poetry,  Prophecy,  Jurispru- 
dence, Ethics,  with  manifold  allusions  to  the  physical  and  topo- 
graphical state  of  different  countries,  and  of  the  earth  at  large, 
it  seems  to  invite  the  scrutiny  of  every  class  of  scholars  and  phi- 
losophers. That  scrutiny  has  been  applied.  It  has  been  com- 
pared with  profane  history.  It  has  been  confronted  with  the 
story  told  by  mouldering  ruins,  by  half-defaced  medals,  by  in- 
scriptions on  Pyramids  and  Catacombs,  by  the  cemeteries  of 
dead  races,  of  plants  and  animals,  by  the  researches  of  natural- 
ists, and  the  discoveries  and  calculations  of  astronomers.  It  has 
been  placed  in  the  crucible  of  a  criticism  the  most  searching 
and  often  the  most  unfriendly,  and  what  is  the  result  ?    It  has 


THE   BIBLE   A    WITNESS. 


487 


been  convicted  of  no  material  discrepancies  or  self-contradic- 
tions, of  no  important  anachronisms  in  History,  of  no  essential 
incongruity  with  the  manners  or  customs  of  the  nations  it 
professes  to  notice,  of  no  oppositions  to  science  except  that 
which  is  falsely  so  called.  By  all  these  trials  it  has  gained 
the  strongest  confirmation.  Though  beset  for  eighteen  hun- 
dred years  by  adversaries  of  the  profoundest  learning  and 
sagacity,  it  has  been  steadily  strengthening  its  hold  upon  the 
noblest  minds  and  the  most  civilized  nations  of  the  earth.  It 
has  disdained,  too,  all  the  vulgar  instruments  of  human  ag- 
grandizement, all  the  arts  by  which  philosophical  or  political 
systems  usually  win  their  way  to  ascendency.  With  uncom- 
promising sternness  it  has  arrayed  itself  on  the  side  of  weak- 
ness against  unholy  power,  on  the  side  of  despised  and  down- 
trodden virtue ;  and  with  imperial  authority  it  has  claimed  to 
supersede  all  the  forms  of  Religion,  Jewish  or  Pagan,  which 
at  the  opening  of  the  Christian  Era  had  overspread  the  world 
and  rooted  themselves  in  the  deepest  foundations  of  prejudice 
and  passion.  At  every  step  of  its  progress  it  has  proclaimed 
that  the  weapons  of  its  warfare  were  not  carnal  but  spiritual. 
It  has  never  been  upheld  by  human  power  or  become  associ- 
ated with  schemes  of  earthly  ambition  that  it  did  not  suffer 
from  the  alliance.  It  has  flourished  with  the  greatest  vigor  in 
the  midst  of  adversity  and  poverty ;  and  in  the  face  of  super- 
stition, war,  licentiousness,  and  misguided  philosophy,  it  has 
moved  forward  from  heart  to  heart,  and  from  nation  to  nation, 
till  it  is  now  the  hope  of  the  fairest  portions  of  the  earth,  and 
the  watchword  of  movements  which  seem  likely  to  renovate 
even  the  far  off-realms  of  China  and  Japan.  Is  such  a  Book 
from  Heaven  or  of  Men  ? 

TJie  contents  of  the  Bible  are  remarkable ;  not  less  remarka- 
ble than  its  history.  While,  of  all  the  works  which  have  ap- 
peared among  men,  the  Bible  alone  gives  any  rational  account 
of  man's  degeneracy,  indicates  means  by  which  he  can  be  really 
raised  out  of  its  depth,  and  explains  how  man,  the  sinner,  can  be 


^88  ^-^^^    THREE    WITNESSES. 

coimted  just  before  God,  the  all-JioIy,  it  also  throws  vast  light 
over  the  doctrines  even  of  Natural  Religion, — the  Personality 
of  God,  as  opposed  to  Pantheism ;  his  Unity,  as  opposed  to 
Polytheism  and  Dualism  ;  his  Holiness,  as  loathing  sin ;  his 
Mercy  and  Long-suffering,  as  pitying  the  sinner.  Where 
would  these  doctrines  have  been  but  for  the  Scriptures  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testament  ?  Now  that  these  ideas  have  been 
developed,  the  mind  can  find  traces  of  them  in  Nature,  and 
clear  indications  of  them  in  man ;  but  the  faltering  convic- 
tions of  the  first  minds  in  the  Heathen  world  when,  unaided, 
they  dealt  with  these  topics,  show  how  much  they  needed  a 
key  to  unlock  the  very  treasures  within  their  reach.  And  then 
the  great  'Etyhcai. problems  which  occupied  the  ancients, — with 
what  ease,  simplicity,  and  transcendent  wisdom  are  they  solved 
by  the  peasant  of  Galilee !  St.  Augustine  notices,  out  of 
Varro,  two  hundred  and  eighty  separate  opinions  entertained 
on  the  single  subject  of  the  summiim  bomim.  Compare,  with 
the  best  of  them,  the  opeiiing  of  Chrisfs  sermon  on  the  mount. 
Or  compare  all  that  the  best  and  wisest  of  sages  and  law- 
givers laid  down  as  djity  with  the  few  and  grand  central  pre- 
cepts, such  as  "  the  Golden  Rule,"  "  the  two  commandments 
on  Avhich  hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets,"  in  which  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  has  summed  up  our  obligations  to  God,  to  man, 
and  to  ourselves.  Love  is  the  one  word  which,  according  to 
this  deep  insight  into  the  soul,  comprehends  the  fulfilling  of 
the  Law  and  the  end  of  the  Gospel.  If  tins  book  zvere  not  of 
God,  could  its  authors,  rude  and  unlettered  as  most  of  the 
writers  of  the  New  Testament  were, — could  they,  if  they  had 
written  ojdy  as  men,  have  thus  outstripped  the  brightest  and 
most  cultivated  minds  of  other  lands  and  of  preceding  times? 
The  manner  of  Scripture  is  as  ivonderfd  as  its  matter.  It 
teaches  by  example  as  well  as  by  precept.  It  shows  us  God, 
not  so  much  being  as  acting.  It  embodies,  also,  in  the  Person 
of  the  Son  of  God,  the  most  perfect  model  of  humanity, — one 
who  wins  our  affection  by  his  human  charities  as  much  as  He 


THE  BIBLE  A    WITNESS. 


489 


commands  our  awe  and  veneration  by  his  divine  authority. 
A  model  it  is,  too,  for  which  there  was  then  no  precedent  in 
the  past  history  of  the  world,  and  no  adequate  materials  in 
the  past  conceptions  of  men.  And  as  in  Him,  so  everywhere 
the  Bible  exhibits  the  natural  and  supernatural  worlds  as  in- 
terpenetrating. Man  is  presented  as  working  on  in  all  free- 
dom, and  frequently  with  all  perverseness;  and  God  is  pre- 
sented as  working  now  in  him  to  will  and  to  do,  now  tliroiigh 
him  to  overrule  even  his  rebellions  to  the  triumph  of  law, 
and  again  the  wickedness  alike  of  individuals  and  of  nations 
to  his  own  glory.  From  Genesis  to  Revelation  God  is  in  the 
foreground,  working  here  by  miracle,  there  by  providence; 
and  yet  man  remains  alwaj^s  true  to  his  own  nature,  and 
seems  never  bereft  of  his  inherent  liberty.  Thus  we  see  in 
mute  prophecy  and  dim  shadow  the  way  preparing  for  that 
mystery  of  mysteries, —  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  the  incorpo- 
ration, as  it  were,  of  the  finite  and  the  infinite,  of  the  Jmnian  and 
the  Divine,  prefiguring,  also,  how  closely  we  may  all  become 
united  by  spiritual  bonds  with  God  in  Christ;  how  our  whole 
soul  and  body  and  spirit  may  be  sanctified  through  the  in- 
dwelling of  the  Spirit ;  how,  retaining  all  our  identity,  we  may 
still  be  gradually  filled  with  the  fulness  of  God,  and  thus  be 
made  ready  for  that  final  and  glorious  transfiguration,  when, 
risen  and  renewed  in  the  likeness  of  Christ,  we  shall  be  per- 
mitted to  dwell  forever  with  the  Lord. 

The  miraculous  element  in  the  Bible  is  that  which  most 
strikingly  vindicates  its  Divine  authority;  but  it  is  by  no 
means  the  only  one.  We  have  shown  already  that  there  is 
antecedent  probability  in  favor  of  miracles ;'^  and  the  evidence 
on  which  they  rest  may  be  regarded  as  impregnable.  Their 
use  is  not  merely  to  attest  the  Authority  of  Christ  and  of  the 
prophets  who  went  before  and  the  apostles  who  followed  after 
Him.     They  force  upon  us,  in  away  which  nothing  else  could 

*  See  Part  I.  Chap.  IV.  p.  1 14. 


490 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


do,  a  sense  of  the  Divine  Personality.  The  more  thoughtfully 
man  looks  on  himself  and  on  nature,  the  more  he  demands 
that  God  shall  speak  to  him  in  assurance  that  there  is  that 
which  is  above  all  laws,  even  a  Creator  and  a  Father.  And 
when  God  appears  at  the  beginning  of  great  eras,  such  as  the 
Exodus  from  Egypt,  or  the  Incarnation  of  Christ,  we  see  in 
the  prevailing  condition  of  the  human  mind  —  in  the  stolid 
Pantheism  or  Materialism  of  the  one  period,  in  the  despond- 
ing, despairing  incertitude  of  the  other''' — all-sufficient  rea- 
sons why  God  should  come  forth  from  his  hiding-place,  de- 
monstrating his  intense  Personality  and  his  Lordship  alike 
over  Nature  and  over  Man.  We  see  reason,  too,  why,  in 
achieving  the  work  of  Redemption,  He  should  work  these 
wonders  through  Him  who  sustained  in  his  one  person  the  Di- 
vine and  the  human  natures,  thus  enabling  us  to  behold  the 
Godhead  through  the  medium  of  human  sympathies,  and  the 
manhood  through  the  medium  of  Divine  relations.  So  the  awful 
gulf  between  man  and  God  is  bridged  over;  and  we  can  ap- 
proach the  great  Jehovah  as  our  Father,  who  is  touched  with 
the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,  and  who  lifts  us  out  of  the  dust 
and  the  ruins  of  the  fall,  through  brotherhood  with  one  who 
is  the  only-begotten  and  dearly-beloved  of  the  Father. 

Again,  the  form  adopted  in  the  teaching  of  Scripture  shows 
that  its  origin  could  not  have  been  with  men  alone.  Had  it 
been  left  to  them,  they  would  have  probably  made  it  wholly 
narrative,  or  wholly  didactic ;  wholly  rhetorical  and  figurative, 
or  wholly  plain  and  prosaic.  As  it  is,  the  Bible  employs 
every  form  in  which  truth  can  be  cast,  except  the  purely  scien- 


*  Says  Pliny,  "  What  God  is,  if  He  be  distinct  from  the  world,  no  human  un- 
derstanding can  know.  It  is  a  foolish  fancy — proceeding  from  the  helpless  weak- 
ness of  human  nature,  as  well  as  from  its  pride — to  suppose  that  such  an  infinite 
Spirit,  be  it  what  it  may,  can  trouble  itself  with  the  miserable  affairs  of  men- 
Man  is  full  of  wishes  and  desires,  running  into  infinity,  which  can  never  be  grati- 
fied ;  and  his  nature  is  a  lie, — the  greatest  poverty  united  with  the  greatest  pride." 
— Nat.  Histor.,  iii.  c.  vii.;  Proem,  evil. 


THE  BIBLE  A    WITNESS.  49 1 

tific.     That  is  omitted  because  it  would  be  unintelligible  to  a 
large  part  of  mankind,  and  uninteresting  to  the  imagination 
and  affections  of  the  residue ;  while  it  would  supersede  that 
task  of  evolving    general    principles  and    scientific  arrange- 
ments out  of  masses  of  promiscuous  and  apparently  hetero- 
genous truths,  which  is  one  of  the  chief  and  most  useful  em- 
ployments of  the  reflective  faculty,  and  which  may  as  well  be 
applied  to  a'  written  Revelation  as  to  that  which   is  made 
through  Nature  and  man.     Now,  by  thus  adopting,  with  one 
exception,  all  the  various  modes  of  presenting  truth  and  duty, 
the  Bible  meets  the  wants  of  universal  hiimajiity.     And,  there- 
fore, in  part  it  is  that,  while  other  books  are  bounded  in  their 
influence  by  country,  culture,  or  age,  the  Bible  seems  to  be 
free  of  all  lands,  all  ages,  and  all  estates  of  men.     Other  writ- 
ings have  gained  an  imperial  sway  for  some  one  reason  only, 
— as  the  classics  for  beauty,  histories  for   knowledge; — but 
here  is  a  volume  which  is  at  once  a  classic,  a  history,  a  col- 
lection of  sacred  hymns,  a  code  of  universal  morals.     Dante 
has  been  styled  the  priest  of  the  Catholicism  of  the  Middle 
Ages.     The  Bible  is  the  organ  of  the  Catholicism  of  all  times 
and  all  people.     It  gives  meet  utterance  to  the  highest  con- 
ceptions and  desires  of  the  enlightened,  while  it  is  at  the  same 
time  joy  and  strength  to  the  rude  and  unlettered.     It  is  the 
book  to  which  the  child  takes  soonest  and  clings  the  closest. 
It  is  the  book  to  which  manhood  in  its  prime  unconsciously  > 
turns  when  it  would  gain  the  highest  wisdom  or  the  surest 
solace.      Its  appeals   ring  like   a  trumpet -summons   on  the 
heart  and  conscience  of  all  who  are  alive  to  duty  or  to  the 
soul's  eternal  weal ;  and  when  we  reach  the  evening  of  our 
life,  or  stand  on  the  verge  of  the  eternal  world,  then  it  is  that 
the  still,  small  voice  of  this  same  word  is  all  our  stay.     Must 
not  this  word  be  more  than  human  ?  can  it  be  in  its  power  and 
fulness  less  tlian  Divine  ? 

Another  cliaracteristic  of  Scnptiire  teaching  marking  it  as  Di- 
vine is  its  most  discriminating  recognition  of  the  functions 


492 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


proper  to  the  Objective  and  the  Subjective.  All  things,  said  the 
wise  man,  are  double.  There  are  realities,  objects,  truths,  and 
duties  without,  there  are  corresponding  faculties  for  perception, 
emotion,  volition  within.  One  philosophy,  like  that  of  Locke 
or  Aristotle,  overlooks  too  much  the  subjective  ;  another,  like 
that  of  Plato  and  the  transcendental  thinkers  of  our  own  day, 
neglects  too  much  the  objective.  To  maintain  a  proper  relation 
between  these  two  factors  is  important  everywhere ;  but  pre- 
eminently so  in  Ethics  and  Theology.  Iii  Religion,  where- 
ever  all  instruction  from  without  is  rejected  or  greatly  under- 
valued, fanaticism  the  most  wild  and  absurd,  or  unbelief  the 
most  licentious,  invariably  ensues.  The  human  mind  has 
inward  powers  and  intuitions ;  but  on  every  subject  they  in- 
volve but  a  capability  which  must  be  developed,  and  the 
development  of  which  may  be  essentially  and  deplorably  ab- 
normal. To  build,  therefore,  only  on  what  is  given  us  from 
within  is  to  build  on  that  which  is  most  capricious  and  un- 
certain ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  look  abroad  with  no  refer- 
ence to  the  deep-seated  moral  and  spiritual  instincts  of  our 
nature,  with  no  use  of  our  own  reasoning  faculty,  is  to  abne- 
gate the  highest  prerogative  we  have  from  God. 

Here,  as  everywhere,  the  Bible  steers  clear  of  Scylla  and 
Charybdis.  It  offers  itself  as  an  objective  Revelation,  rendered 
necessary,  in  part,  by  the  limited  nature  of  our  faculties,  in 
part  by  the  obscuration  induced  through  sin,  in  part  by  the 
feebleness  and  fickleness  of  our  powers.  We  feel,  if  we  are 
not  infatuated  with  self-complacency,  that  our  minds  need  to 
rise  above  themselves ;  that  to  do  so  there  must  be  a  jixcd 
support,  higher  than  our  intelligence  has  yet  reached,  and 
more  stable  than  our  wavering  convictions  can  hope  to  be ; 
an  unerring  criterion  to  which  we  can  refer  our  conclusions, 
and  an  ever-advancing  guide,  which  shall  be  to  us  as  a  pillar 
of  cloud  by  day  and  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night. 

But  the  Bible  does  not  overlook  the  functions  which 
devolve  on  man  as  a  moral  and  intelligent  being.    It  addresses 


THE   BIBLE   A    WITNESS.  ^q^ 

itself,  therefore,  to  his  reason  as  well  as  to  his  faith,  and  it  lays 
emphatic  stress  upon  the  greatly-neglected  truth  that  our  sub- 
jective mental  and  nioml  condition  determines  our  capacity  to 
appreciate  the  truths  of  Revelation ;  that,  above  all  things,  he 
must  have  an  honest  and  sincere  heart  who  would  have  the 
seed  of  truth  and  life  imbedded  in  his  soul  and  bringing  forth 
fruit  to  perfection.  The  Bible  recognizes  all  men  as  having  a 
measure  of  this  inherent  capacity  to  apprehend  the  truth  as 
it  is  in  Christ,  but  as  being  better  and  better  qualified  for  the 
task  in  proportion  as  they  are  humble,  conscientious,  and  pure- 
minded. 

The  Bible  is  remarkable  for  the  purpose  at  zvhich  it  aims  a  nil 
the  success  zvith  u>hich  it  pursues  it.  It  aims  at  nothing  less  than 
the  moral  regeneration  of  the  whole  world, — a  design  which 
never  entered  the  imagination  of  the  most  aspiring  statesman 
or  the  most  large-hearted  philanthropist  of  earlier  days.  It 
aims  to  achieve  this  sublime  purpose  by  the  simple  proclama- 
tion of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ.  And  does  not  the  history 
of  Christianity  demonstrate  that  this  is  no  dream  of  en- 
thusiasm ?  The  triumphs  she  has  won  already  prepare  us 
to  anticipate  her  ultimate  victory  over  every  existing  and 
every  conceivable  foe.  The  Bible  is  not  merely  a  conser- 
vator of  good  already  compassed;  nor  is  it  merely  an  author- 
itative summons  to  come  up  higher:  it  is  itself  the  well- 
spring,  the  exhaustless  fountain,  of  the  noblest  truths  and 
impulses  that  have  been  given  to  mankind.  It  has  not  only 
supplied  new  views  of  God,  and  put  its  ban  on  Polytheism, 
Panthesim,  and  Superstition ;  it  has  not  only  solved  the 
awful  problem  of  evil  in  its  relation  to  man,  and  taught  us 
the  way  of  redemption  through  the  Son  of  the  Highest:  it 
has  invested  every  individual  soul,  for  which  Christ  died,  with 
a  new  and  inconceivable  dignity;  it  has  developed  in  all, 
who  have  received  its  great  truths  in  the  love  of  them,  a  sense 
of  responsibility  which  takes  in  both  worlds ;  it  has  pro- 
claimed the  idea  of  a  true  brotherhood  among  all  men  in 


494 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


Christ  Jesus,  and  has  thus  laid  the  axe  to  the  root  of  the  tyranny 
with  which  man  once  lorded  over  woman,  patrician  over  ple- 
beian, noble  over  peasant,  master  over  slave ;  it  has  developed 
the  true  function  of  the  State  as  one  of  the  agencies  through 
which  the  individual  mind  is  to  be  trained  under  God  to  full 
capacity  and  taste  for  all  its  duties  and  prerogatives,  and  as 
having  right  to  exist  and  to  rule  only  as  it  promotes  to  the 
uttermost  in  all  its  people  this  high  culture. 

These  ideas,  when  first  propounded,  met  with  universal 
contempt  or  execration.  Slowly  but  surely,  however,  they 
have  spread  like  leaven  through  bodies  politic  and  social, 
charging  mind  after  mind  with  their  sacred  influence,  and 
gradually  achieving  that  amelioration  which  places  us  this 
day  high  above  the  highest  condition  ever  attained  under 
Pagan  or  Mohammedan  sway.  And  thus  are  mankind  to  be 
always  taught  of  God.  Thus  have  they  been  learning  for  six 
thousand  years, — from  the  Patriarchal  to  the  Mosaic,  from  the 
Mosaic  to  the  Christian,  stage.  In  the  infancy  or  childhood 
of  the  world,  it  was  the  absolute  regimen  of  parents;  in  its 
hot  and  fiery  youth,  it  was  the  fixed  and  well-defined  do- 
minion of  law  as  prescribed  in  the  Old  Testament ;  and  in  its 
riper  and  more  thoughtful  manhood,  it  is  the  gospel  of  the 
grace  of  God.  First  there  is  outward  truth  to  make  one 
wise,  then  there  is  subjective  preparation  to  receive  that  truth. 
There  is  glory  without,  hidden  from  the  proud  and  self-com- 
placent, but  revealed  to  those  who  in  meekness  are  babes. 
There  are  laws  for  earlier  stages,  and  there  are  laws  again 
which  shall  be  fully  comprehended  in  all  their  applications 
and  cordially  obeyed  only  when  society,  through  a  larger  ex- 
perience and  a  deeper  moral  sense,  shall  come  to  see  their 
wisdom,  and  to  own  their  sanctity  and  binding  force. 

What  an  instrument  have  we  here  for  regenerating  uni- 
versal humanity!  Ours  is  not  a  religion  for  a  favored  family 
or  a  preferred  people.  We  are  put  in  trust  of  the  gospel,  and 
we  hold  it  for  mankind, — for  the  distant,  the  benighted,  the 


THE  BIBLE  A    WITNESS.  4^)5 

down-trodden,  the  afflicted.  Nations  in  their  loftiest  successes, 
in  their  purest  forms  of  civiHzation,  are  but  travelHng  towards 
the  ideal  presented  in  Scripture ;  and  as  new  phases  of  society 
appear,  that  Scripture  will  be  found  adapted  to  each  so  far  as 
it  may  be  legitimate,  and  be  calculated  to  advance  each  to 
new  glory  and  perfection.  If  this  book  be  of  God,  then  it 
was  written  with  foresight  of  all  coming  conditions  of  the 
world,  and  it  will  be  found  to  have  for  every  one  of  them  ap- 
propriate instructions  and  influences.  And  it  has.  For  the 
fearful  struggles  of  our  own  time  it  has  the  only  effectual 
guide;  for  its  struggles  between  capital  and  labor;  between 
liberty  and  order;  between  Church  authority  and  private  judg- 
ment; between  spirituality  and  formalism;  between  asceticism 
and  sensuality ;  between  fatalism  and  freedom ;  between  mys- 
ticism and  dogmatism  ;  between  belief  and  unbelief 

But  if  the  Bible  be  such  a  Regenerator  for  nations  and  for 
the  race,  it  must  have  capabilities  equally  great  for  the  culture 
and  improvement  of  the  individual.  And  what  could  we  de- 
sire in  a  book  to  rouse  our  dormant  faculties,  or  to  invigorate 
and  refine  them,  that  we  may  not  find  here  ?  Holy  Scripture 
comprehendeth  History  and  Prophecy,  Law  and  Ethics,  the 
Philosophy  of  Life  that  now  is,  the  Philosophy  of  Life  that  is 
to  come.  At  one  time  it  clotheth  its  teachings  in  strains  of 
the  sublimest  or  tenderest  poetry,  at  another  in  narratives,  as 
beautiful  and  touching  for  their  simplicity  as  they  are  un- 
rivalled in  dignity.  It  has  reasoning  for  the  logical  under- 
standing; it  has  pictures  for  the  discursive  imagination;  it 
has  heart-searching  appeals  for  the  intuitive  powers  of  the 
soul.  There  is  no  duty  omitted ;  there  is  no  grace  or  enjoy- 
ment undervalued.  It  provides  a  sphere  for  every  faculty, 
and  even  for  every  temperament  and  disposition.  This  many- 
toned  voice  uses  now  the  logic  of  a  Paul,  and  now  the  ethics 
of  a  James  ;  here  the  boldness  and  fervor  of  a  Peter,  and  there 
the  gentleness  and  sublimity  of  a  John.  With  one  it  dis- 
courses of  the  awful  guilt  and  curse  of  sin,  and  points  us  to 


496 


THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 


tlie  only  way  of  escape ;  while  with  another  it  expatiates  on 
the  unutterable  love  of  God,  and  the  attractions  of  the  Cross 
of  Christ.  The  Bible  is  no  formal,  lifeless  system  of  proposi- 
tions and  inferences  and  precepts.  It  is  as  rich  in  the  variety 
and  vivacity  of  its  methods  as  it  is  in  the  overflowing  abun- 
dance of  its  materials.  While  it  draws  some  to  Religion 
through  the  ideal,  and  some  through  the  real  and  demon- 
strable, it  allures  others  by  means  of  the  affections  and  sensi- 
bilities, and  others  it  overawes,  as  a  son  of  thunder,  by  its 
appeals  to  conscience  and  the  dread  of  an  hereafter. 

And  how  is  it  if  we  look  to  the  culture  of  the  intellect  merely? 
How  vast  is  the  field  which  the  Bible  opens  to  our  inquiries  ? 
What  rich  results  may  we  not  win  in  almost  any  conceivable 
line  of  research?  What  discipline  does  not  the  proper  study 
of  it  provide  for  our  reason  and  our  faith,  for  patience  and 
humility,  for  fortitude  and  moderation  ?  And  in  respect  to 
those  momentous  questions,  which  pertain  to  God  and  the 
soul's  destiny,  there  is  light  enough  for  every  humble,  robust 
mind,  there  is  darkness  enough  for  every  proud  and  self-con- 
fiding one.  To  attain  to  perfect  and  all-embracing  knowl- 
edge belongs  not  to  us,  who  are  still  in  the  twilight  of  our 
beings,  and  who  are  called  to  work  our  way,  through  patient 
and  ennobling  labor,  to  that  state  where  we  can  see  even  as 
we  are  seen,  and  know  even  as  wc  are  known.  That  way  will 
open  gradually,  but  surely,  before  all  who  go  forward  trust- 
fully and  manfully  with  the  Bible  as  their  guide.  They  shall 
have  no  infallible  certainty,  but  they  shall  have  unshaken  and 
soul-satisfying  confidence.  To  the  question  of  questions, 
"  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  they  shall  find  an  answer 
on  which  they  can  stay  themselves  in  perfect  peace.  Their 
assurance  will  be  the  gift  of  no  ghostly  confessor,  it  will  be 
the  offspring  of  no  sudden  and  indefinable  impression  or 
inspiration.  It  will  be  faith,  well  grounded  and  settled,  an 
anchor  to  the  soul.  It  will  have  the  witness  within  that  we 
love  and  strive  to  serve  God ;  and  it  will  have  the  witness 


I 


THE  BIBLE  A    WITNESS. 


497 


without  that  they  who  do  Christ's  will  shall  know  of  his  doc- 
trine; that  the  Holy  Spirit  will  guide  the  meek  in  judgment, 
and  instruct  them  in  God's  way,  and  that  he  who  cometh, 
with  a  faithful  and  penitent  heart,  in  Christ's  name,  shall  in 
nowise  be  cast  out. 

While  in  this  state  of  warfare,  the  Christian  must  expect 
to  be  assailed  through  his  understanding  as  well  as  through 
his  heart.  He  may  never  hope  to  be  exalted  therefore  here 
above  all  necessity  of  seeking  more  truth,  nor  above  the  duty 
of  guarding  against  the  beguilements  of  his  own  heart.  The 
divisions  which  rend  Christendom  are  not  to  be  ascribed  to 
the  insufficiency  of  Scripture.  They  are  to  be  ascribed  to 
the  insufficiency  of  man's  fallen  but  self-confident  mind ;  its 
insufficiency  to  discuss  without  passion,  and  to  decide  without 
prejudice.  When  men  rise  superior  to  selfish  pride  and  in- 
terest ;  when  they  bring  to  the  study  of  Scripture  a  devout 
and  teachable  spirit;  when  they  gladly  avail  themselves  of  all 
proper  help,  and  look  with  becoming  deference  to  the  judg- 
ments of  the  wise  and  good ;  when  they  seek  truth  first  of  all 
as  a  guide  in  action,  not  as  a  weapon  for  controversy;  when 
they  apply  to  its  contemplation  both  their  intellectual  and 
their  moral  powers,  their  reason,  their  conscience,  their  affec- 
tions, and  an  obedient  will,  they  shall  not  be  left  in  such  case 
greatly  to  err.  God,  says  Pascal,  willing  to  be  revealed  to 
those  who  seek  Him  with  their  whole  heart,  a7td  hidden  from 
those  who  as  cordially  fly  from  Him,  has  so  regulated  the  means 
of  knoiving  Him  as  to  give  indications  of  Himself,  which  are 
plain  to  those  who  seek  Him,  and  shrouded  from  those  who  seek 
Him  not. 


Here  then  we  rest;  not  fearing  for  our  Creed 
The  worst  that  human  reasoning  can  achieve 
To  unsettle  or  perplex  it :  yet  with  pain 
Acknowledging,  and  grievous  self-reproach, 
That,  tho'  immovably  convinced,  we  want 

32 


498  THE    THREE    WITNESSES. 

Zeal,  and  the  virtue  to  exist  by  faith 

As  soldiers  live  by  courage ;  as  by  strength 

Of  heart,  the  Sailor  fights  with  roaring  seas. 

Alas !  the  endowment  of  immortal  power 

Is  matched  unequally  with  custom,  time, 

And  domineering  faculties  of  sense 

In  all;  in  most  with  superadded  foes, 

Idle  temptations,  open  vanities 

Of  dissipation;  countless,  still-renewed, 

Ephemeral  offspring  of  the  unblushing  world; 

And,  in  the  private  regions  of  the  mind, 

Ill-governed  passions,  ranklings  of  despite, 

Immoderate  wishes,  pining  discontent, 

Distress  and  care.     What,  then,  remains? — To  seek 

Those  helps  for  his  occasions  ever  near 

Who  lacks  not  will  to  use  them ;  vows,  renewed 

On  the  first  motion  of  a  holy  thought ; 

Vigils  of  contemplation ;  praise ;  and  prayer, — 

A  stream,  which,  from  the  fountain  of  the  heart 

Issuing,  however  feebly,  nowhere  flows 

Without  access  of  unexpected  strength. 

But,  above  all,  the  victory  is  most  sure 

For  him,  who,  seeking  faith  by  virtue,  strives 

To  yield  entire  submission  to  the  law 

Of  conscience ; — conscience  reverenced  and  obeyed. 

As  God's  most  intimate  presence  in  the  soul, 

And  his  most  perfect  image  in  the  world. 

— Endeavor  thus  to  live ;  these  rules  regard ; 
These  helps  solicit ;  and  a  steadfast  seat 
Shall  then  be  yours  among  the  happy  few 
Who  dwell  on  earth,  yet  breathe  empyreal  air, 
Sons  of  the  morning.     For  your  noble  Part, 
Ere  disencumbered  of  her  mortal  chains. 
Doubt  shall  be  quelled  and  trouble  chased  away; 
With  only  such  degree  of  sadness  left 
As  may  support  longings  of  pure  desire ; 
And  strengthen  love,  rejoicing  secretly 
In  the  sublime  attractions  of  the  Grave. 

Wordsworth  :  The  Excursion,  lib.  iv. 


i 


INDEX. 


Abnormal  states  of  mind,  436. 
Adaptations,  wonderful  and  manifold, 

70. 
Esthetic  culture,  422. 
Agriculture,  its  uses,  340. 
Agassiz  and  Cuvier,  237. 
Analysis   of  the  faculties  of  the  mind, 

358. 

Anatomical  structure  of  man,  350-352. 

Animalcules,  food  for  animals,  319. 

Animals,  primaiy  food  of,  218. 

A  priori  arguments  on  Divine  exist- 
ence, 56. 

Argument  of  Cicero  compared  with  Pa- 
ley,  148. 

Atoms  point  to  the  beginning  of  the  sys- 
tem, 211. 

Attributes  of  philosophical  minds,  173. 

Archbishop  King  and  Bishop  Law,  455. 

Augustine  quoted  by  Wheweli,  167. 

Anthropomorphical  views  of  God  for- 
bidden, 249. 

Anatomists,  German,  295. 


Babbage,  the  mathematician,  117. 
Benevolence  of  God,  and  the  system  of 

prey,  321. 
Berkeley  on  motion,  204. 
Bible,  religion  of  nature  recognized  in, 
32. 
remarkable  for  its  purpose,  493. 
a  regenerator  of  the  nations,  495. 


Bible  a  cultivator  of  the  intellect,  496. 

the  history  of,  485. 

contents  of  the,  487. 

miraculous  element  in,  489. 
Boyle  on  the  study  of  nature,  17 1. 
Bodies  not  annihilated,  227. 
Buckland   and    Paley  contrasted   with 

Cicero,  148. 

C. 

Caoutchouc,  how  obtained,  and  its  uses, 

329- 

Chemistry  a  religious  teacher,  205. 

Chemical  affinity,  laws  of,  206. 

Characteristics  of  extinct  fossils,  271. 

Christianity  minds  not  high  things,  249. 

Carbon    and   hydrogen   burned    in  the 
blood,  215. 

Causation,  idea  of,  54. 

Combes,  George,  on  the  constitution  of 
man,  133. 

Comte's  view  of  science   and   the   su- 
pernatural, 128. 

Combination  of  elements,  limited,  209. 

Conscience  aided  by  the  religious  senti- 
ment, 411. 

defectibility  of,  399. 
adjustable,  not  adjusted,  400. 

Constancy  of  purpose,  267. 

Constituents  of  blood  and  bones,  219. 

Connection  between  natural  and  Divine 
truth,  136. 

Contrast  of  organic  and  inorganic  prop- 
erties, 242. 

(499) 


500 


INDEX. 


Corruption  of  the  people,  415. 
Cultivation  of  the  intellect,  421. 
Culture,  sesthetic,  422. 

D. 

Dead  substances,  uses  of,  331. 

Death  of  an  infant,  and  of  an  old  saint, 

435- 
David  and  Job  in  advance  of  science, 

200. 
Devil  loves  evil  as  evil,  403. 
Defectibility  of  conscience,  399. 
Dilemma  of  Epicurus,  454. 
Diderot  misunderstood  Bacon,  153. 
Different  elements  in  our  humanity,  37 1 . 
Divine  benevolence,  315. 
Divine  wisdom  upholding  life  in  plants, 

308. 
Divine  unity,  291. 
Distribution  of  species,  286. 
Doing  all  to  God's  glory,  412 
Doctrine  of  final  causes,  154. 

E. 

Egyptian  and  Indian  astronomy,  165. 
Effects  of  death  in  plants,  2^9. 
Elements  limited  in  their  combination, 

209. 
Embryotic  theory,  282. 
Emotional  functions  in  man,  374. 
Emotional  power  of  conscience,  397. 
Enjoyment  of  life  by  animals  that  fall  a 

prey  to  others,  324. 
Ends  to  be  attained  by  life  on  earth,  299. 
Events  point  to  the  first  cause,  93. 
Every  animal  complete  in  its  parts,  236. 
Evil  may  educe  good,  456. 

overcome  by  good,  88,  89. 
Exuberance  of  creative  skill,  276. 
Events  or  sequences,  religious  teachers, 

77. 

F. 

Fallibility  of  the  discerning  power,  396. 
Faith  in  an  aft:r-life,  437. 
Fearful  power  of  insects,  254. 


Fecundity  of  animals,  256. 

Final  causes,  93,  302. 

Food  on  which  animals  subsist,  297. 

Foresight,  indications  of,  272. 

Formation  of  milk,  and  its  properties, 

221. 
French    philosophers,    how    poisoned, 

175- 
Freethinkers   may  learn  wisdom   from 

the  past,  160. 
Free,  deliberative  spirit  in  man,  346. 
Friction,  gravity,  etc.,  182,  189. 
Functions  of  life,  240. 

G. 

Galen  and  Stillingfleet  against  the  Epi- 
cureans, 201. 
Georgics  of  the  mind,  464. 
German  anatomists,  295. 
Gravity,  friction,  inertia,  182-189. 
Graduated  force,  Stahl,  208. 
Grandchildren  and  their  seniors,  382. 
Greenlander's  reasoning,  145. 
God,  personal  or  impersonal,  367. 

H. 

Happiness  found  everywhere,  390. 
Heat,  animal  power,  etc.,  189-195. 
Hereditary  transmission,  277. 
Higher   spiritual   being   than    man,    is 

there  any?  361. 
Holiness  a  proof  against  the  contagion 

of  vice,  401. 
Hume's    objection   to   the   analogy  of 

man's  works   and   those  of  Creator, 

106. 
Humility  and  love  of  truth,  attributes  of 

philosophical  minds,  173. 

I. 

Ideal  and  actual,  437. 
Ideal  period,  past  and  future,  439. 
Imagination  at  different  periods  in  life, 
.387. 


INDEX. 


501 


Immortality,  412,  424,  426. 

Inductive  inquiry,  not  absolute  but  con- 
tingent, no. 

Inductive  philosophy  and  natural  re- 
ligion, 147. 

Indications  of  foresight,  272. 

Influence  of  plants  and  animals  on  man, 

Inorganic  nature,  225. 
Inferior  forms  of  life,  334. 
Inscriptions  and  monuments,  169. 
Instinct  of  the  bee  and  the  beaver,  not 

intelligence,  105. 
Insoluble  difficulties  teach  modesty,  453. 
Instinct  answers  anxious  questions,  363. 
Instinctive  feeling  of  the  supremacy  of 

mind,  433. 
Intellectual  pride  rebuked,  163. 
Involuntary  mechanical  functions,  198. 
Irreversible  law  would  supersede  prayer, 

134. 

J. 

Job  and  David  in  advance  of  science, 

200. 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  a  reformer,  416. 

L. 

Law  of  man's  nature,  40, 

Law,  fixed  and  irreversible,  would  su- 
persede the  necessity  for  prayer,  134. 

Laws  of  chemical  affinity,  206. 

Language  of  Scripture  popular,  not  sci- 
entific, 162. 

Leaves,  under  the  microscope,  309. 

Life,  originated  and  sustained,  232. 

maintained  by  Divine  benevolence, 

315- 
a  state  of  pupilage  for  the  future 

life,  458- 
illustrative  of  Divine  power,  246. 

M. 

Man's  nature,  law  of,  40. 
Man  a  machine,  196. 


Man  formed  to  dwell  in  every  part  of 
the  earth,  220. 
conscious  of  personality,  369. 
possesses  a  free,  deliberative  spirit, 
346. 
Man's  organism,  349. 

body  a  witness  against  materialism, 

344-354- 
welfare  promoted  by  inferior  creat- 
ures, 328. 
Means  of  self-preservation,  310. 

and  ends,  55. 
Metaphysical   assumption,  hostility  of, 

103. 
Mind  recoils  from  an  eternal  succession 

of  secondary  causes,  96. 
Miracles,  theory  of,  1 14. 
Mirbel,  the  botanist,  on  winter,  255. 
Milton's  Areopagitica,  460. 
Miraculous     element     in     the     Bible, 

489. 
Monuments  and  inscriptions,  169. 
Motion,  perpetual,  impossible,  212. 
Model  man,  who  is  the  ?  420. 
Moral  discipline,  what  is  in  the  phrase  ? 

459- 
Multiplicity  of  animals  and  vegetables, 
252. 

N. 

Nature,   oi-ganic  and   inorganic,   225— 
229. 
and  revelation  on  the  character  of 

God,  125. 
uniformity  of,  430. 
Newton  classified  objects,  80. 
on  inductive  study,  176. 
Noxious  and  harmless  materials,  224, 

O. 

Object  of  the  volume,  17. 
Objects  and  events  as  teachers,  62. 

cause  or  origin  of,  74. 

not  recognized  without  reference  to 
their  cause,  230. 


502 


INDEX. 


One  object  the  representative  of  many, 

73. 
Order  and  uniformity  as  explained  by 

skeptics,  107. 
Organism  of  man,  349. 
Organs    of    sensation,    reflection,    etc., 

353- 
Origin  of  species,  235. 

Organic  chemistry,  213. 


Philosophers,  influence  of  Theism   on, 

46. 
Philosophy  and  theology,  connection  of, 

136. 
Physical  sequence  of  laws,  83. 
Physiology  and  anatomy,  200. 
Peculiarities  of  character  influenced  by 

education,  467. 
Personal  identity,  432. 
Pity  for  the  wretched,  379. 
Policy  that  wins  the  multitude,  380. 
Pleasures  and  pains  instruments  of  moral 

government,  445. 
Plants  prepare  the  soil  for  each  other, 

312. 
Plants  and  animals  of  the  past  same  as 

those  of  the  present,  269. 
Problem  of  immortality,  426. 
Probable  influence  of  death,  450. 
Prey,  system  of,  does  it  compromise  the 

benevolence  of  God?  321. 
Principles,  original  and  instinctive,  375. 
Prudence  a  rational  principle,  405. 

auxiliary  to  conscience,  405. 
Products  of  vital  action,  241. 
Primary  food  of  animals,  218. 
Providence,    diff"erent    views    of,    129, 

130. 
Province  of  theology   and   philosophy, 

140. 
Perpetual  motion  impossible,  212. 
Psychical    endowments    of    the    sexes, 

370. 


Purposes  of  the  Bible  remarkable,  493. 
Plants  and  animals,  adaptation  between, 

313- 

R. 

Radical  diff"erence  between  mind  and 

organism,  434. 
Regard  for  the  becoming  in  man,  406. 
Relations  of  science  and  revealed   re- 
ligion, 141. 
Religion  of   nature  recogjnized  in  the 

Bible,  32. 
Relation  between  organic  and  inorganic 

bodies,  274. 
Revelation  and  science,  157. 

natural  and  supernatural,  425. 
Retribution  in  after-life,  441. 
according  to  character,  443. 
supplies  much  needed  here,  446. 
moral  and  final,  447-453. 
Resemblances  and  aflSnities  of  objects, 
64. 

S. 

Science  and  revelation,  I57' 

Seeds  dispersed  over  the  earth,  311. 

Seaweed,  sponges,  fungi,  etc.,  293. 

Self-determining  power,  465. 

Skepticism,  various  degrees  of,  24. 

has  nothing  to  console  the  mind, 
50-52. 

Soul  a  witness  to  the   Divine   benevo- 
lence, 373,  417. 
a  witness  to  its  own  destiny,  412. 

Stillingfleet  and  Galen  against  the  Epi- 
cureans, 201. 

Statics  and  dynamics,  181. 

Stahl  on  graduated  force,  208. 

Steam-engine  an  instrument  of  civiliza- 
tion, 264. 

Study  of  final  causes,  305. 

Supremacy  of  mind,  433. 

Subjective  point  of  view,  449. 

Something  not  yet  attained,  438. 

Success  the  true  criterion,  408. 

Some  things  to  us  a  veiled  picture,  304. 


INDEX. 


503 


Spontaneous  generation,  theory  of,  ex- 
ploded, 239. 
Study,  Newton  on  inductive,  176. 


Testimony  of  wise  men,  of  history,  and 
of  languages,  37-39. 

Theism  of  the  Christian  Scriptures,  42, 
46,  52. 

Testimony  of  Agassiz  and  Cuvier,  237. 

Theory  of  miracles,  1 14. 

Theologians  not  always  meek,  174. 

Three  eventful  periods  in  life,  463. 

Transmutation  of  species,  280. 

The  earth  a  mighty  sepulchre,  258. 

The  life-power  a  witness  for  Divine  wis- 
dom, 265. 

The  discerning  power,  393. 

U. 

Unbelief  the  exception,  40-42. 
Unity  of  the  human  race,  288. 
Uses  of  dead  substances,  331, 
Universal  belief    of    future    existence, 

426. 
Uniformity  of  nature,  430. 
Uniting  affections  or  friendly  ties,  388. 


Variable   character  of  all  our  powers, 

383- 
Veiled  picture,  some  things  such  to  us, 

304- 
"Vestiges  of  Creation"  criticised,  285. 
Vital  functions  and  organs,  433. 
Vital  dynamics  in  plants,  261. 
Virtue,  what  is  it  ?  420. 
Vital  action,  products  of,  241. 

W. 

Whewell  on  combination  of  elements, 
210. 
quotes  Augustine,  167. 
Will  and  religious  sentiment,  409. 
Who  was  the  perfect  man?  461. 
Work,  object  of  this,  17. 
Worship,  instinctive  disposition  of  man 

to,  53- 
Works  on  natural  science  modify  those 

on  natural  religion,  149. 
What  is  the  Divine  nature?  365. 
Will  there  be  retribution?  441. 
What  indications  of  a  future  life  in  our 

mixed  nature  ?  429. 


